Red Herrings
by ShanghaiLily
Summary: The story picks up where 'Follow the MacGuffin' leaves off. Somebody is trying to kill Veronica, but why? Could it be one of the perps from an old FBI case she worked on, the Russian billionaire with a grudge against her, Logan's creepy stalker, or somebody else from her past who isn't even on her radar? When you've pissed off half of Neptune, anything is possible. LoVe/MaDi
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: Though we're practically identical twins (if he were 5'2", female and Mediterranean-looking), I'm not Rob Thomas and don't own Veronica Mars. However, if I had a genie's lamp, I would rub the hell out of that thing and wish that I were!**

* * *

**I'm back! Hope you all came with me, because Cliff(!) my favorite character in the VM-verse will be making a few appearances here, and that's never a bad thing :)**

**This is a sequel, so I highly recommend reading 'Follow the MacGuffin' first, because it will make so much more sense that way. For those who need a refresher,**** (MAJOR SPOILERS if you haven't read it, obviously) here's a 'Follow The MacGuffin' roundup:**

1) LoVe is finally happy and living together after much craziness, but Veronica is at a crossroads with her FBI career due to a major screw-up that almost got her killed and gave her a nasty case of PTSD

2) Veronica is knocked up but Logan doesn't know

3) Logan is being stalked, but Veronica doesn't know (they just do not know how to be honest with each other!), but Wallace is on to him and offered to help

4) Mac and Dick realized they liked each other, but then Dick had to play hero and ended up shot - he doesn't remember anything from that night now - including their hookup - and yet, he's still falling in love with her all over again

5) Mac also decided to play hero in order to get Dick medical help, and now she owes a life debt to Alexei Petrenko, a creepy Russian billionaire software mogul who wants to be her sugar daddy - he' s threatened to kill Dick if she double-crosses him, so Mac is trying to create distance with Dick to prevent him from being a target

6) Duncan swung himself a sweet deal with the DA and is off to prison for only six months, and while he's gone, he is leaving Lilly in LoVe's care

7) Clarence is schtupping Celeste Kane, who is sick with cancer AND Lianne has been secretly living in a cottage on the Kane property for years, playing part-time house with Jake (lots of middle-aged people getting their freak on in one place)

8) Keith (who reconciled with Alicia) is sheriff again, due to a massive drug bust he helped the Feds with that put away the FitzPatrick clan and ousted their puppet, Vinnie VanLowe

9) Creepy Russian billionaire wants to ruin Jake Kane and plans to use Mac to do it

10) "Leo has a secret, and it's a good one" - before he blew himself to smithereens by making the unfortunate decision to move Veronica's car for her, Leo told her he needed to talk about something very important - could it have something to do with that mysterious bus locker key she found in his pocket?

**Whew! Did you get all of that? Good! Here we go...**

* * *

**CHAPTER 1**

Veronica squinted as she noticed the twinkle lights dangling from the roof of the Neptune Court House. They blinked in vain against the glare from the bright sunlight assaulting the facade of the building like a nuclear blast.

The city kept the lights on around the clock during the entire month of December, despite the high cost and pointlessness of igniting them during daylight hours. Last June, the city assembly voted to shut down a library in the 02 school district because they couldn't afford to pay the staff to keep it running, but twinkle lights were deemed a necessity, a vital part of the cultural life in Neptune.

_Gotta love a city that values plastic trees and fake snow over its children's literacy. Oh well, at least when they're older, the kids will have something pretty to look at while they're out panhandling for cash._

Duncan and his legal team entered the building, followed closely by Veronica, Logan and their lawyer, Cliff.

Veronica slipped her hand into Logan's as he pulled her tired body up the stairs. It had been two weeks since she'd come home from the hospital, and other than her auditory issues, she was nearly back to her old self.

_Unless you count the unexpected guest setting up shop in my womb. _

"I feel like I'm dragging around a basset hound. Didn't you get any sleep last night?" Logan slowed his gait to pull her closer to him.

She pushed herself to pick up the pace. "If I remember correctly, I lost a good hour of snoozing due to you and your insatiable pair of grabby hands."

"I didn't hear too much complaining out of you last night." He leaned in closer. "And it was closer to two hours, Bob."

"Two hours? Are we measuring that in Earth time? I had it pegged as being closer to 45 minutes."

_Gotta keep moving the goal post just out of reach to keep him motivated. It's not like he hasn't had enough stroking - both ego and otherwise - to keep his self-esteem soaring into the next decade._

Logan gave her an incredulous look. "Considering it was the first time I've gotten to touch you in two weeks and I didn't even get to be inside of you, I believe I deserve a standing ovation for my restraint."

"Huh? I didn't catch that." Veronica's face pinched with effort as she struggled to hear him.

He smiled and tickled her side. "I know your game by now, Mars. You just want to trick me into saying that again at top volume now that we've entered a room where the acoustics rival Mount Everest. I'm not biting...unless you ask me nicely."

She placed a hand over her heart and looked offended. "Playing games? Hmm. That really does not sound like me at all."

Cliff cleared his throat and placed a gentle hand on Veronica's shoulder. "Vee, if you and 'l'enfant terrible' don't knock off all the sexy-talk, the only kid you'll be taking home with you this weekend is the one whose hand you're currently holding."

_I'm suddenly thrilled my dad didn't show up for this._

Logan raised an eyebrow at Veronica, in vindication. "Don't you just love it when karma takes care of all your dirty work for you?"

Their shoes clacked against the grey marble floor as they approached the line for the x-ray machine.

A family of four was directly in front of them, slowing down the queue as they struggled with both an inconsolable infant and a bratty three year old boy who wouldn't stop taking items out of the bins that needed to go through the machine.

"If that's not an advertisement for birth control, I don't know what is," Logan said with a sneer.

Cliff threw his ramshackle briefcase onto the conveyor belt. "Preach, brother."

_If I wasn't wary of telling him about the baby before..._

Veronica rolled her eyes as she slipped off her platform sandals. "Please, you two are much bigger babies than than those two. You guys whine non-stop."

"Maybe, but at least when I shit in my pants, there's a good reason for it," Cliff said with a wink.

Veronica blanched, then dropped her shoes into the plastic bin in front of her. "Don't tell me the reason."

"The only common ground I have with a baby is a fine appreciation of the human mammary gland," Logan said, then leered for a moment at Veronica's chest.

"So you're saying you hate kids?" she asked.

"I never said I hated kids," he said.

_Thank God._

Cliff elbowed Logan in the ribs. "You didn't say you liked them either."

Logan chuckled and nodded his head. "True."

_Crap._

"Though I'm sure I would have liked myself when I was a kid. I'm told I was fascinating," he continued.

Cliff examined him with a studied eye. "I believe it."

"Of course you were." Veronica snorted. "I guess I don't know what we're doing here if you hate kids so much, Logan. I mean, in case you haven't noticed, Lilly Kane is a kid."

He stopped what he was doing and turned to face her. "Lilly Kane is no kid. Lilly Kane is a 40 year old con artist in the body of a seven year old girl."

"Does she know how to play poker?" Cliff asked.

"Of course she does, but Duncan already forbade me to take her to Vegas," said Logan.

Cliff tipped his head from side to side in thought. "There are ways around that."

"You are both horrible people," Veronica mumbled under her breath.

Logan threw an arm around Cliff's shoulders. "See, that is exactly why he and I should probably never be parents. That, and the whole genetic predisposition to violent, psychotic rages."

_Oh, so this is about Aaron, then._

Cliff distanced himself from Logan with a look. "Speak for yourself. These feathers never get ruffled." He brushed some lint off of the lapel of his off-brand, budget suit.

"The violent, psychotic rage thing was all me," Logan clarified.

_You are nothing like him, Logan, but you'll never believe that, will you?_

"Obviously," Cliff said, as he placed a pair of black, pleather loafers along with his wallet and flip-phone into a bin. "Oh, for the record, I never said I _wasn't_ a parent, just that I _shouldn't_ be a parent. In fact, I'm fairly certain there are at least a few kids running around Little Korea who have a voice like liquid gold and a head of hair that would make a lion cry with jealousy."

The three year old brat from the family in front of them pulled one of his father's shoes away just as it was entering the scanner and chucked it at Cliff's back.

"Ow. Little fucker." Cliff winced in pain.

Logan unloaded the contents of his pockets into another plastic bin and gave it a little nudge forward onto the conveyor belt. "I see they've repainted the lobby since the last time I was here," he said, looking up at the crisp, ecru walls.

Cliff took in the sight of the recently changed lobby and smiled. "It's the little things that really make this job a delight."

Veronica placed her handbag and iPhone into the bin just behind his, then suddenly remembered her gun. "Hang on, this lady is packing" she said, gesturing to the gun strapped to her side beneath her pale blue blazer.

"Aren't we all?" Cliff asked suggestively, sailing through the metal detector with a lazy, half-wave to her over his shoulder.

Veronica eyed the walk-through metal detector nervously and racked her brains for a believable out. "I need to check in my gun, Logan, so I'll meet you on the other side."

He leaned over and placed a chaste kiss on her lips before she set off to speak with the heavy-set Mexican officer in her 30's, who was guarding the area.

_And once again, my gun saves the day._

"I'm a Federal agent," Veronica started, flashing her badge. "I need to check in my gun."

The guard examined Veronica's badge and gave her a nod of approval. "It's nice to see other women in law enforcement. You know, I was thinking of going Fed for a while there, myself."

"Really? What changed your mind?" she asked as she passed her gun, holster and clip to the officer.

"My son. Just when it was time to report for camp, I found out I was pregnant. Can't really complete those obstacle courses with a giant belly getting in the way," the woman said with a regretful shrug, before recording the gun's serial number and placing the weapon in a safe behind the guard station.

"Speaking of being pregnant...I don't suppose I could skip the x-ray machine in lieu of a magnetic wand and a vigorous pat-down? As a professional courtesy?" she asked in a quiet voice, furtively glancing in Logan's direction before covertly pointing to her own belly.

"That your husband over there? The tall one with the built arms who can't figure out how to tie his shoes?" the guard asked.

Veronica smiled as she watched Logan struggle to get his shoes back on. "Yeah, that's my boyfriend. We live together."

The woman looked on appreciatively as Logan bent over in the other direction while lacing his oxfords back up. "Not bad. Not bad at all."

_Eyes up, lady!_

"Don't let the sweet face fool you, he's bad, but I kind of like him that way," Veronica said with a smirk.

"He doesn't know yet, right?" she asked, her glance indicating Veronica's belly, while she ran her hands over the blonde's arms and torso.

Veronica looked up at the woman in shock.

"Your eyes were looking everywhere but at me, and you spoke to me in a whisper," the officer said while patting down Veronica's legs. "Those are classic 'tells', you know?"

_If a stranger can get me to spill my guts in a matter of minutes, how transparent am I to everybody who knows me well? _

"No, he doesn't. The timing just hasn't been right yet to tell him, you know?" Veronica busied herself with replacing her jacket.

The woman laughed to herself. "It never is, honey."

Veronica was impressed with the woman's observational skills. "You know, it's a shame you never tried again for the FBI, you would have made a great interrogator."

The guard got off the ground and wiped her slacks clean. "Yeah, but we all have to make that hard choice at some point. You probably already know this, but motherhood doesn't really fit that well in the agent lifestyle."

_Don't remind me._

Veronica intently smoothed the non-existent creases from her shirt. "So I'm learning."

* * *

The perky blonde secretary from the 4th floor lead Duncan, Veronica, Logan and their vast legal entourage into a soulless corner office. The chairs were barely padded and utilitarian, a far cry from the sleek and luxurious offices at Kane headquarters.

A fake wood table with an empty conference phone hole in the middle took up the majority of the room, leaving the group aimlessly wandering around it's perimeter.

Veronica noted the absence of said conference phone and the lack of any other equipment, save for a sour-smelling, miniature Krupps coffee maker mocking them from the side ledge. "I told you they wouldn't have coffee here, Donut. It's not Kane Corp. Not every conference room in town looks like it was designed by the W Hotel chain."

Duncan seemed appropriately nervous as he sat gingerly on the edge of the table. "It's not like I've ever been in the bowels of the courthouse before, Veronica."

Logan casually raised a finger. "I have."

Veronica smiled tensely and pushed Logan down into a vacant chair by his shoulders. "Probably not the best topic of discussion once the ADA shows up, honey."

"It's a matter of public record, Vee" Cliff reminded her. "They'll probably bring it up."

"Okay, but we don't have to remind them to bring it up, do we?" she carped.

Logan grinned at her with amusement and pulled her into his lap. "Are you ashamed of me, kitten?" he asked as he felt his way around her thighs.

_Only when you grope me in front of my dad's friends, lover._

"Not ashamed, but not exactly bursting with joy at the stupidity you exhibited in your youth."

"And here, I always thought you found my criminal nature a sign of my superior intellect." He nuzzled the back of her neck and she leaned into the affection.

"That's exactly what a sociopath would say." She tilted her head just enough to let him see her smirk. "Strictly my professional opinion, as a profiling specialist."

Duncan quickly turned to look out of the window at the parking lot below.

Veronica gave Logan's arm a playful pinch before motioning toward Duncan with her head. "Retract tentacles" she mouthed.

Logan dramatically released her and she leapt off of his lap. "Seriously Duncan, what would you like us to say if they ask?"

A severe-looking, African American woman around 50 with shortly-cropped hair gazed humorously at the couple. "It's better if you let your...lawyer?" she asked, looking caustically at Cliff, who simply nodded without offense. "...talk for you."

_Should I be surprised that Celeste Kane was the one to hire this charmer?_

"This is all a formality anyway," she said dismissively. "They usually sign off on the guardian's custody preference in these cases, and now that Mr. Kane has established parentage, it shouldn't be a problem."

"What about the Mannings?" Veronica asked.

"Didn't I tell you?" Duncan asked, turning from the window to face her. "Stewart Manning is in prison."

"Child abuse? Child endangerment? Spousal abuse?" Veronica rattled off only a few of the many charges she would have liked to have lobbed at the asshole, if given the chance.

He shook his head. "Tax fraud. Apparently, the only kind of withholding Uncle Sam disapproves of is financial."

Logan's leg started to bounce and he fiddled with the collar on his jacket anxiously.

Knowing how easily upset he got from hearing tales of child abuse, Veronica circled behind his chair and rested her hands on his shoulders to ground him. "And what about Grace? She's not living with Rose Manning still, right?" she asked, more for Logan's benefit than her own.

Duncan kneaded the back of his neck with his left hand and returned his eyes to the window. "Mrs. Manning drank a bottle of bleach the night they took Meg's dad away. Grace lives with Lizzie now."

_Wish I could bring myself to feel bad about that. Oh well._

The door opened without warning, startling everyone inside, and in walked the assistant district attorney Jefferey Steinberg, a schlubby, rumpled-looking white man in his mid-40's, wearing an ill-fitting suit. Following closely on his heels with a legal pad in her arms, was a stunning Latina woman in her mid-20's, whom Veronica assumed to be his assistant or intern.

"Mr. Kane, it's a pleasure to be meeting with you once again," the ADA said, as he pulled a chair out from the table and took a seat. "You already know my legal intern, Ms. Ruiz, from our last mediation."

The woman took the chair next to him and then looked up, immediately locking eyes with Veronica. She smiled subtly and then looked back down at her notes.

_Carmen Ruiz? I haven't seen her since graduation. It can't be a bad thing having a person sitting across the aisle who owes you a solid._

"Yes. Also, we went to school together," Duncan said.

"Uh-oh, hope we don't have a conflict of interest here," the ADA said sarcastically, with an expression that suggested it would be an impossibility.

_Jeez. How much coin did Jake Kane have to 'donate' to the courthouse to warrant this kind of a reception. It's like traveling with a visiting pasha._

"This is Ms. Mars and her fiance, Mr. Echolls. They'll be serving as the child's guardians during Mr. Kane's incarceration," Steinberg explained to Carmen, who wrote down some notes.

_Fiance? I know I can be a heavy sleeper, but surely I would have remembered getting engaged._

Duncan looked quizzically at Veronica, who shrugged and then turned to Logan with a raised brow. Logan responded with a guilty-looking smile before quickly averting his stare.

_Guess that answers that question._

"It's a pleasure to meet everybody" Carmen said, once again pointedly shooting Veronica a covert greeting with her eyes.

After going over the details of Duncan's agreement with a fine tooth comb, as well as the specifics of the custody arrangement, the ADA rose from his chair and placed a fatherly hand on Carmen's shoulder. "I'm due in court in ten minutes, but Carmen here will stay and finish up the paperwork with you all. Mr. Kane, I trust we'll be seeing you bright and early on Monday morning?"

Duncan took a deep breath and produced a forced-looking smile. "With bells on."

Cliff leaned in to whisper in Veronica's ear. "Which they will promptly remove, as they might be used as a weapon inside the joint."

Veronica shook her head. "You are a twisted man, Clifford."

"On that note, if I'm no longer needed, I have a standing appointment at 'Phuket Good', the Thai massage place on Santa Ana Way." He stood up and snapped his fraying, faux-leather briefcase closed. "That's four stops just off the PCH service road, in case you're in the market for a four-handed rub down," he said, looking directly at Logan.

_You are lucky I owe you a million favors, man._

Logan looked behind himself, then realized Cliff was reciting the directions for his benefit. "Are you trying to get me killed, Cliff? You know my girl is licensed to carry a gun, right?"

Cliff chuckled as he walked toward the door. "You kids and your conventional views on love...come back and talk to me after your third divorce."

"Goodbye, Cliff," Veronica said forcefully.

Logan brought both of her hands to his lips. "I'm in the market for a two-handed massage, only."

"I only need to use one." Veronica whispered as she flexed the fingers on her right hand in the air.

He groaned under his breath. "You are going to pay for that comment later, kitten."

She rubbed her hands together in anticipation. "Ooh, I certainly hope so. This whole being injured thing has really put a crimp in our sex life."

Carmen rose from the table after collecting all of the signatures she needed, then beamed openly at Veronica. "You are about the last person I expected to walk through that door with Duncan Kane...except for maybe this guy," she said, indicating Logan with her thumb before giving her old acquaintance a quick hug.

_You're probably only one of thousands who feel the same way._

Logan bowed his head. "Carmen, you're looking as lovely as ever."

"Thank you, Logan." She tittered and then looked back and forth between the couple with anticipation. "I'm actually quite surprised to see you together still. I mean, considering the hostile way you treated each other senior year."

_Ah...those were my salad days, when I had nothing to exact my vengeance with other than my own two hands and my enterprising spirit._

"That wasn't hostility, Carmen, that was unrequited love," Logan said.

_He's the only one who can make verbal harassment sound romantic._

Veronica leaned her head against his arm for a moment. "It wasn't unrequited, Logan. Just un-acted upon."

"Oh, because you were dating..." Carmen looked at Duncan uncomfortably and then back at Veronica.

Logan's expression became a rigid mask at her mention of his girlfriend's relationship with his former best friend and Carmen stammered nervously. "I – what I – um mean is..."

_Oh God, here we go again. Somebody should have warned her about poking a sleeping dragon._

Veronica sensed old insecurities beginning to crown their ugly heads. She knew high school was a sore subject for Logan, not only for the unconscionable way he treated her during most of their sophomore and junior year, but for the uncontrolled rage and immaturity he displayed during their senior year which prompted her to coldly abandon him. It was the lowest point he'd ever experienced in his life, and she knew that any reminder of it would just bring the feelings of inadequacy back to him in a flash.

_He's not the only one who's ashamed of the way they acted back then. I should have been more understanding, I should have been there for him like he was for me. He was alone, and I just cut him loose in the wilderness, leaving him to perish. I'm not sure I'll ever be able to forgive myself for that._

She interlaced her fingers with Logan's and clung to his arm with her other hand. "The real problem was that I just wasn't ready to accept the inevitable back then, but I am now." She looked directly into Logan's eyes until she felt his tension give.

Carmen gave Veronica's forearm a light squeeze. "That is just the sweetest story ever, and I am so happy for you both. I mean, who would have guessed that the two of you would one day be getting married?"

Logan tightened his grip on Veronica's hand. "I would have guessed, but then again, I always did put the 'hopeless' in hopeless romantic."

Veronica glared at him. "I'm afraid the wedding is just a flight of Logan's fancy. I suppose he thought being married might sway the ADA in our favor, as far as Lilly's custody was concerned. What an old-fashioned notion, am I right?" She laughed nervously.

Carmen looked confused. "Wait – so you're not...?"

Veronica could feel Logan start to tighten up again next to her again. "Oh, we _are_, just not legally. We live together, we just won't be releasing doves any time soon."

Logan looked flatly at Veronica. "Define soon."

_Anytime before I reach 100. If you still want to lock it down when I look like a Raisinette, I'm all yours._

"Probably not the most appropriate place to be having this discussion, _darling_." Veronica's face hardened.

Logan kept his features relaxed. "Well, you won't have it anywhere else, so I'll take it where I can get it, _snookems._"

She licked her lips and took a step closer to him. "I don't think you'll be getting it at all if you don't drop the subject immediately, _hot pants_."

Carmen brought her hands to either side of her face. "Aww, you guys really are exactly the same as you were in high school! None of us were ever sure whether you were going to kill each other or eat each other for breakfast."

_You can add me to that list._

Logan wrapped an arm around Veronica's waist. "Little known fact: Ronnie is actually the breakfast of champions." He pulled her tightly against his groin, which had slightly begun to harden.

Duncan tapped Carmen on the arm and motioned her over to his lawyers so they could ask her a question. "Listen, I should get over there, but I'd love to grab coffee sometime and catch up."

_A friend? Ah yes. I remember when I used to have those._

"Sounds great. I'll leave my number."

Carmen squeezed Veronica's hand. "Fantastic! I'll see you soon."

As Carmen walked away, Veronica could feel Logan's breath quicken behind her.

"Alone at last."

She looked around at the still full conference room and smirked. "I wouldn't exactly say that." The evidence of Logan's growing arousal gently nudged her back and her brow creased in response. "Seriously? You're getting hard here? Are you an animal?" she whispered, always amused by his ill-timed erections.

Logan pouted. "Last night was the first night since you came home that we got to...do stuff. I'm a little backed up." Veronica groaned her disgust and tried to squirm out of his grasp to no avail. "Hey, you should count yourself lucky that I'm not indifferent to you."

Veronica placed a hand on her hip. "As if you could ever be indifferent to me."

"Likewise."

She smiled to herself. "That too."

"Well." He let out a relieved breath. "It's nice that you're finally admitting it...even if it did take you twelve years" he said, with more than a hint of pleasure.

Logan's hands slid from Veronica's waist to her outer thighs and he leaned his lower half further into her. "What exactly is doing it for you, the communal office microwave from the Paleolithic era or the way the synthetic low-pile carpet glimmers under the institutional fluorescent lighting?"

He shrugged. "What can I say? This building is making me feel nostalgic."

"For what? Incarceration?" Veronica asked as she flipped her body around to face him.

Logan looked at her shyly with puppy dog eyes as he brushed her hair out of her eyes then tucked it behind her ears. "You know." He leaned his forehead against hers and she could feel the affection radiating off of him.

_Great, now I'm getting a metaphorical erection._

She did know. She'd been feeling it since they walked into the place. For all of the time Logan had spent on trial in that courthouse, she had been right there next to him, as nervous as he was, fearing what he feared, holding his hand like it was the only thing preventing him from being taken away from her.

Veronica's arms snaked up around his neck and she molded herself to his body. "I do."

"You were the only thing keeping me sane that summer," he whispered.

She frowned, then let her hands wander down his back. "I did a pretty lousy job with that, if I remember correctly."

"I didn't think it was possible to love anybody more than I loved you back then, but I was wrong." Veronica cocked her head to the side in question.

"I'm still referring to you, genius."

Veronica's breath caught in her chest and she simply smiled at him, hoping he could feel all of the things she had trouble saying out loud. She would have given anything to be able to express herself freely at that moment, but deep down she knew it just wasn't in the cards for people like her. "If this is your way of trying to get me to agree to a quickie in the broom closet, I accept."

_I'm actually not kidding about that broom closet._

He chuckled at her obvious emotional deflection and pressed his lips against hers, a tacit acceptance of her limitations.

"I did...love you back then, Logan, even though I pretended not to," she said faintly, before tipping her face up to his. "Just so you know."

Logan cupped her face with his hands and lowered his mouth onto hers once more, then grinned. "I believe there was some mention of a broom closet?"

"Actually, I prefer my illicit trysts to take place in _electrical_ closets," she said very seriously.

"Electrical closets, you say?" He ardently looked around the room for a moment then sighed. "Seems they're fresh out of closets in general, my dear. I suppose that's what you get with a cheap, city architect."

She reached her hand into his pocket and produced his keys. "I know this terrific place where they have tons of closets. Plus, when we wear ourselves out, we can just walk ten feet and collapse into our own bed."

"That _does _sound terrific. Why don't you give me the address?"

* * *

Mac entered her apartment and threw her purse on the table, letting it ricochet off of the wood and slide back onto the floor with a soft thud.

_Too tired. Will get it later._

It was Friday and she had just finished her first full week at Alexicon. It was grueling work, starting a project from scratch, but true to his word, Alexei had provided her with unlimited funds and full access to everything and anything she needed. As far as professional endeavors go, she had to admit that this was pretty top shelf. Her personal life, however, was like the sludge one might find at the bottom of a beer barrel after it's been tapped.

So far, in the ten days that she had been at his company, Alexei had 'invited' her to join him for lunch on nine occasions. Lunch, Alexei-style, consisted of going over the the Red Room Club for some holubtsi cabbage rolls, a few shots of horseradish vodka and several uninvited gropes. To say he was being aggressive in his sexual harassment would be like referring to Steve Buscemi as looking slightly haggard.

As Mac crossed her living room, she was stopped cold by the sight of Dick Casablancas, lying peacefully asleep on her couch, next to a game center that he'd brought over earlier in the week. A few lit candles and six bottles of an obscure, imported beer he had chilling in an ice bucket rounded out the oddly romantic scene. She sighed at the effort, despite her genuine wish that he hadn't come over.

_Why does he keep doing this? He's only making it tougher for me to protect him. _

As if sensing her presence, Dick's eyes fluttered open and a sleepy smile crept across his face as he stretched. "Mornin' Mackie."

She folded her arms and did her best to look annoyed. "It's 7pm, Dick."

"It's morning somewhere..."

She wanted to be mad, but he just looked too adorable lying there for her to muster up the appropriate level of ire. However, she needed to drive her message home somehow. "This is the fourth day this week you broke into my house."

"Whatever Macster. It's not breaking in if I have a key," he said, continuing to stretch his arms over his head. Her eyes combed over his tanned, taut stomach muscles as his shirt rose halfway up his torso, and she felt all of the air escape her lungs. "Besides, I let all of my friends have the key to my house. What's the big deal?"

_Should this worry me more than it does? Probably._

"The big deal, is that I didn't give you a key to my house." Mac's hands made their way to her hips in fists. "How, exactly, do you have a key to my place?"

"I told your landlady that I was your boyfriend, and that I needed to set up a bunch of elaborate shit in your apartment so I could propose to you."

_She bought that?_

Off her doubting look, Dick waggled his eyebrows. "I can be very persuasive."

_Yeah, I'll bet._

"I'm positive I don't want to know what that means." Mac circled around her couch and plopped down on the opposite end from where Dick was sitting.

He shrugged. "I could always demonstrate."

Flabbergasted by his audaciousness, she shook her head. "Please tell me you're making this up to tease me."

His eyes twinkled with mirth. "Nope. I'm only gonna be straight with you. It's a new thing I'm trying."

"So what? You copied my keys or something?"

Dick gave her a coy smile. "Or something."

_Fuck. Seriously? The last time I saw him put this much effort into something was when he threw that Oktoberfest-themed housewarming party for himself over three years ago. I still don't know how Logan managed to talk me into that one._

"You copied my keys?" Mac asked more insistently this time.

"I totally did," he said with no remorse.

She ran her hands through her hair and let out an exasperated puff of air as her head hit the cushions. "Well, I feel safe. I only hope Mrs. Washington doesn't find the Zodiac Killer sexy next time he rolls into town." She sighed and kicked her shoes off onto the floor. "Listen Dick, I know you have a very fertile imagination, but you _are _aware you're not my boyfriend?"

Dick popped the top off of a beer and held it out to her. "Yet."

_Is he for real with this? I feel like I'm being punk'd. This whole scenario is shades of every 80's movie I've ever seen, where the bully tricks the dork into thinking his girlfriend/boyfriend is into them, only to publicly humiliate them for the crime of believing the farce._

Mac looked at it blankly for a moment, then rolled her eyes and took it from him. "I'm only drinking this beer because it's cold and I'm thirsty, not because I'm agreeing with you."

Dick shuffled along the couch until he was next to her and handed her a game controller, which she took wordlessly and placed in her lap, as she had done nearly every day that week.

"Why me?"

He looked at her with mock confusion. "You've seen your rack, right?"

She stifled a laugh and took a swig of her beer. "There are plenty of great racks out there, Dick. Why mine?"

He shrugged. "I've pretty much fucked everybody in Neptune worth doing already."

_Come again?_

Mac narrowed her eyes at him. "So you're saying that you're sitting in my living room right now, because I'm what's left over after you've plowed through all of the better-looking girls?"

He turned his entire body to face her, then pulled her beer from her hands to get her attention and slammed it on the coffee table. "No, Mac what I'm saying is that if you've seen one set of fake knockers, you've pretty much seen them all, you know? After the sex is done, there's really nothing else interesting happening with those women. You and I haven't even gone to second base, and I'm already having way more fun with you than I've ever had with any of those chicks." He rested his hand on her thigh and practically burned a hole in her with his gaze. "In case I haven't made myself clear, I like being your friend, but I still totally want to bang you."

_Shit. How am I supposed to resist this? The answer: I can't! When did this happen to me? Have I turned into one of those pod people?_

She felt her stomach start to tingle and tried to tamp it down with a full-body clench. "Look, I was joking about me owning you like a Japanese Shogun. You're not my serf, Dick, you don't have to work off your debt to me."

Dick cracked a smirk. "I'm not here to work off a debt, but that kind of sounds like an awesome sex game, which by the way, I'm definitely up for if you're into that kind of stuff."

_I wasn't until you just mentioned it. Gah!_

Mac took a deep breath and tried to reason with herself. "Yeah, until you get bored and move on to the next 'challenge'."

"Hey, I got all of that crap out of my system when I was 20. I know I was, like, the biggest whore in Southern California, but I'm done with all that, I swear. I've been done with that for a while now," Dick said, a tinge of hurt feelings working it's way into his tone. "I'm here because I like hanging out with you, not because I'm trying to conquer you, or whatever crap scenario is floating around in that head of yours."

"Dick..."

Dick shook his hand in front of his face to stop her from talking. "No, you don't get it, because you can't even imagine the parade of boring-ass, fake-looking, gold-diggers that have come through my bedroom. You don't roll with that crowd, so you don't even know the kind of crap that's out there."

"God, I feel terrible for you." Mac's mouth formed a tight line. "A little tip, Dick: if you're trying to get a women to date you, you might not want to mention the 'parade' of ladies who have marched through your bedroom."

Dick scoffed. "Oh, like I'm sure you're shocked, because you had no idea what a giant man-whore I used to be. Is this the first time we've met?" He held his hand out for to her to shake.

_Point taken._

She shrugged her acquiescence and he retracted his hand. "Obviously you don't get it, so I'll lay it out for you. I don't meet too many smart and funny chicks who can kick my ass on the console, while also somehow getting me to care about shit I probably wouldn't even think about normally. Plus, you're really cute when you get embarrassed, which is a lot...probably because you like me too."

Her mouth dropped open, but she couldn't manage to form any words.

_Shit. Shit! He actually said it out loud. What the hell am I supposed to do with this information when it's taking everything I have to keep me glued to my couch cushion? _

Dick took her hand in both of his and played absently with her fingers. "You're still letting me sit here, right? If you wanted to get rid of me, you wouldn't have to try really hard. Guess you're not as much of a challenge as you think you are, Mac, so that debunks_ that_ theory."

At a loss for anything productive to say about the topic at hand, Mac hid behind the minutiae. "You just used the word debunk correctly in context."

"I'm not retarded, Mac. I went to college." He released her hand.

"I have no idea why I just said that, I know you're not...'retarded'," she said, stumbling over the distasteful word repeated in air quotes. "I don't meant to be acting like such a bitch, it's just...I'm, uh...I'm a hard nut to crack."

_I'm a hard nut to crack? What the fuck is wrong with me? Now I sound dumber than he did in high school!_

Dick looked at her like she was the last shrimp left on the buffet table. "I'm fairly confident I can crack your nut, Mac."

_Will somebody break out the smelling salts already? I am going down._

She cleared her throat nervously and tried to affect a serious mien. "How, um, exactly do you think you would accomplish something like that?"

_What are you doing, girl? This is the opposite of getting rid of him and you know it._

Dick leaned forward, took the console from her lap and placed it on the coffee table in front of her. Her back straightened as he inched even closer to her and gently combed her hair back, before grazing the outside corner of her ear with his lips.

"I'm sure I can think of something" he whispered hotly into her ear, causing a chill to run down her spine. He then pressed a soft kiss to the apple of her cheek and quickly pulled out of her personal space, leaving her cold from the loss of contact.

_Uhhh..._

Mac felt suddenly lightheaded and her mouth ran dry. As if on cue, Dick handed her the beer he opened for her earlier and she took a sip, then nodded her thanks.

"So...when you're done swooning and shit, let me know if you're up for a game of 5th." Dick brought his own beer to his lips and took a long, smug sip.

* * *

Logan punched the entry code into his gate and pulled his truck into the driveway of his beachfront home.

Before he had a chance to cut the motor, he instinctively lunged across the console to prevent Veronica from unbuckling her seat belt. "Stop trying to get out of the car on your own."

_I'm sure being so quick on the draw probably helped her in the FBI, but it's making my home life exhausting._

She growled her displeasure, but obeyed his request, leaving the seat belt connection alone. "I've actually been doing this whole walking-on-my-own thing for the last 20-odd years pretty well. I'm fairly certain I can continue to."

Ignoring her complaints, Logan turned off the car and gave her a stern look. "Stay there until I come around."

"Sir! Yes sir!" she shouted, followed by a sarcastic salute.

He tried hard not to laugh as he stepped out of the car, but even in her anger, Veronica always managed to be entertaining.

After circling around to the other side, he opened her door and attempted to guide her from the passenger seat, but she dug her heels in. "If you would just follow the doctor's orders, I wouldn't have to get tough with you all the time."

She angrily crossed her arms over her chest. "Looks like somebody rented the movie 'Secretary' again."

Logan took a moment to fantasize about Veronica wearing a crisp, white button down blouse with a pinstriped skirt so short and tight she could barely walk in it.

_God, I fucking love that film._

"Logan?" she snapped with annoyance.

_Crap. Did she notice?_

He cleared his throat and adjusted his stance to leave more room in the front of his trousers. "Uh, no actually, I rented 'Misery', but I am happy to bend you over a desk at any time. You just say the word." He tried his best cheeky grin to distract her from his lascivious thoughts.

Veronica pouted her lips. "Word."

_Fuck. Really? It's about time._

He looked down at his girlfriend with affection. "Looks like I should probably get you inside then."

Her expression remained unmoved. "Looks like it."

_I cannot keep track of this woman's moods lately. _

"How is it that at the same time you're seducing me, you're also managing to give off the distinct impression that you're irritated with me. It's funny, you'd think that when a woman runs hot and cold at the same time, the result would be warm. Alas, no."

She shook her head. "It's not you. I'm just sick of not being about to move around the way I want, and irritated by the constant ringing in my ears. How am I supposed to figure out who did this to me – and to Leo – if I can't even reliably hear who people are saying, or even walk down the street without getting dizzy."

_Time for an inspirational quote, Bobcat._

He knelt at her feet and leaned his arms on her knees. "He that can have patience, can have what he will. Benjamin Franklin."

"I highly doubt Benjamin Franklin had to wear a crash helmet just to walk around the block. Something tells me he'd be singing a different tune if that were the case."

Logan ran his hands through his hair and struggled to stay balanced. "Who is forcing you to wear a crash helmet?"

Veronica shrugged petulantly. "If I were living alone, I'd have to."

"Well, then it's a good thing you're not living alone." Logan stood up, turned around and offered his back for a ride. "How about I just let you climb on my back and we forgo the whole walking thing altogether?"

She wrapped her arms and legs around his torso and rested her chin on his shoulder. Despite her recent foray into intermittent insanity, he still never felt safer or happier than when she was surrounding him. "I'd rather climb your front, if you know what I mean."

_Okay, seriously, something is afoot. She's giving me emotional whiplash._

Logan laughed. "No, I_ don't _know what you mean, Veronica. Please explain."

She dug the edge of her chin into his shoulder as punishment for teasing her. "If I have to explain it, I'm doing something wrong."

His hands cupped her ass from behind and pulled her closer to him. "If you were doing it any more right, I'd be fucking you on the hood of my Toyota right now." He bent his knees and placed her on her feet next to the front door, then nearly knocked the wind out of her with hid amorous embrace. "Come on. You've been driving me crazy all morning. Get inside."

Veronica taunted him with a wanton look. "_You _get inside."

_Sir! Yes, sir!_

"That's what I've been trying to do for _weeks_ now, Ronnie!" His hands wandered into her hair and yanked her head back to expose her throat for further exploration. "Veronica..."

She began to pant heavily as he nipped and sucked the column of her neck. "Do it."

_Fuck._

Logan pulled her blazer off and threw it on the ground next to the doormat. "Is that a new bra? Your breasts look enormous."

"Why don't you find out?" she said, unbuttoning her blouse until the top of her white lace bra was visible.

He slid his hands under Veronica's shirt and roughly cupped her breasts, causing her to squeal in pain and pull away from him quickly. "Are you okay? Did I hurt you?"

_Crap. Am I losing my touch? _

Veronica shook her head, but kept her gaze on the ground. "I think..I think it's just PMS."

_Oh yeah, her period. Explains a lot. _

Logan closed the distance between them and wrapped his arms around her. "Well, it's about time. You haven't had your period at all since we've been together."

"I had it while I was being held that week at The Red Room," she mumbled under her breath.

_As if being kidnapped weren't uncomfortable enough...yuck._

Logan grimaced and kissed the top of her head protectively. "That must have been fun for you."

He could feel Veronica tense in his arms. "I don't want to talk about it. In fact, I think I just want to go upstairs and take a shower, if you don't mind."

_Looks like I'm going to have to take a shower now, too. Mine will be cold._

"Of course I don't mind. Are you...you're okay, right? You're acting kind of strange."

"I'm just tired."

"Oh. Well, why don't you go upstairs and I'll order us some dinner - or I could make you a cup of tea?" he offered.

_Or whatever else you PMS ladies like to eat and drink when you're not blacking out with rage._

Veronica cradled his face in her hands and started to get choked up. "I really love you. You know that, right?"

_Okay...I've never been one to look a gift horse in the mouth, but this is not normal Veronica behavior._

"Yeah, I know." Logan's forehead creased with concern as he intently traced the edges of her face with his fingers. He didn't know what he was looking for, but he knew for a fact that something was there that he wasn't catching. "It's just take-out, Ronnie. Save the tears of gratitude for when you try my Bolognese."

She started to cry and laugh at the same time and he swore he could feel his blood drop 10 degrees at that moment. "I really don't deserve you, Logan."

_Is this still the PMS talking?_

"You're not really acting like yourself, baby. Should I be concerned?" he asked before kissing her scalp a few times. "Take a deep breath."

Veronica took a few long breaths and smiled in a way he knew wasn't genuine. Over the years, he had mentally recorded every single one of her smiles, had them documented and forever branded into his mind. This was not one that he recognized.

_No. This isn't normal._

Observing her with a curiosity usually reserved just for wildlife and babies, Logan worked up the nerve to broach a taboo subject they had yet to discuss. "Hey...what happened with Leo...if you feel like talking about it with me, I'm here, okay? Or if you don't feel comfortable talking to me, I could always call a therapist? No pressure."

Veronica shook her head vigorously at the suggestion. "I'm fine. Just emotional...from my period. It's been a while since you lived with a woman, so you've probably forgotten."

"I've never lived with a woman other than my mom - and Trina whenever her money would run out - so yeah, it's been a while."

She folded in on herself as she burrowed into his chest. "Just promise me that you'll never leave me, okay?"

_Jesus. Now, I'm really getting worried._

Logan stroked her back and kissed her left temple. "What happened to Leo was a freak thing."

"It wasn't a freak thing, it was an assassination attempt, and in case you haven't noticed, they missed their target," she said, gesturing to herself.

"Believe me Veronica, I've noticed. I can barely sleep some nights because I'm so worried for you."

Veronica pulled away from him and rested her hands on her stomach. "I keep having this nightmare where there's somebody following us, and when I turn around to see who is it, you're standing in front of me and you've been stabbed, and you're bleeding everywhere."

_Funny, I've been having those same nightmares in reverse._

Logan swallowed thickly and a shock of fear crept up his spine. "That's what those nightmares you've been having are about?"

"Some of them," she said cryptically. "Just promise me you'll be extra careful. I don't want to – I can't lose you, okay? I can't."

Though he'd always dreamed of her saying things like this to him, the circumstances of his fantasies had been very different. At this moment, he'd wholeheartedly prefer the less effusive version of Veronica, if in exchange it would leave her less terrified.

_Veronica Mars is begging me to be safer – have I now entered 'The twilight Zone'?_

"I'll never leave you," Logan said, knowing for certain it would take a bulldozer to get him out of her life now.

Veronica exhaled raggedly and fisted the lapels of his jacket with clammy palms. "Promise me you'll be careful. Promise me."

"I promise to be careful, okay?" He smiled at her as he stroked her cheekbone with his thumb, then leaned down to kiss her. "Go on upstairs now before I throw you over my shoulder. Seriously, your breasts are distracting. Flee now, while you still have the chance of an escape."

She laughed, and as she took her first step toward the front door, her foot slipped on a white folded card. Logan lunged to steady her just in time. "What's that?" she asked.

_Great timing, stalker. Thanks._

He quickly grabbed the card from the ground and slipped it into his jacket pocket. "Must've fallen out of my pocket while you were mauling me. Now go!" he said, and slapped her on the ass lightly.

Veronica jokingly slapped his ass back. "Control your dirty urges," she said, then unlocked the front door and hurried inside.

Logan lifted the ominous card out of his pocket, but couldn't bring himself to open it. If it were a ladder, he would have walked around it like a bad omen.

He looked through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows next to the door and watched as Veronica carefully ascended the staircase toward their bedroom.

_How can I protect her when I'm the reason she's in danger in the first place?_

As he reached down to retrieve Veronica's blazer from where he'd dropped it earlier, a perfect white rose peeked out from underneath its cover.

* * *

**A/N - Well? What did you think of the first chapter? Intrigued? I'm dying to know, so please scroll down a bit more and consider writing a review, if you have a moment. You don't have to be a registered user to leave feedback. **

**Oh, did I mention I love reading your reviews? I did? Okay, just checking...**

**Special Holla to Silverlining2k6 for the always amazing concrit.**


	2. Chapter 2

**You guys are freaking awesome! I can't believe how many of you put this story on alert already, and the amount of reviews was really flattering. The response is making me giddy :)**

* * *

**I got a few reviews that asked some interesting questions, so I'm going to answer them here:**

**Dalwriter wanted to know:**

**Q:** How does Veronica still have her FBI weapon/credentials when she quit?

**A: **She didn't quit, she's midway through a six month voluntary leave of absence and was not required to turn in her gun, because she's still technically an agent. She's carrying it on her, because she's worried somebody is trying to kill her – and her badge is her defacto gun license.

**Q: **Why does Mac still have to work for the Russian when Keith heard her discussion over the wire and he kidnapped Veronica and held Dick.

**A: **She exchanged herself for Dick, and Petrenko outright told her he would kill Dick is she backed out or double crossed him. Keith didn't hear anything incriminating on the wire, other than Alexei hitting on Mac (her mic cut out once she got into the basement). They have no proof he was holding Dick, and since they tossed him onto the driveway of the ER from an unmarked van, they can't even place him there. Veronica doesn't have proof she was kidnapped, since she escaped – plus, she's not sure if he's the one who tried to kill her, so she'd rather keep him in play to see what he does.

**emackenzie asked:**

**Q:** How did LoVe not see the note and rose on the floor when they first arrived?

**A: **It was nighttime when they got home, so it was too dark to see from the car. Logan brought her over on piggyback, so V wasn't in a vantage point to see anything in front of her. Also, they started fooling around the second he put her down and her jacket was the first thing to be removed, so

**You guys are awesome at keeping me honest – and seriously, I appreciate it, because sometimes there are glaring plot holes I might have missed that I definitely would want to plug (insert Logan boat joke here) - though keep in mind that some of the things you may think are plot holes are purposely kept vague for suspense reasons, like when V was acting all OOC and crazy and then you found out a few chapters later she had PTSD. Some holes, you just need to patient with. (I feel like this last line should be rated M)**

* * *

Previously: Duncan signed the temporary custody papers so Lilly could live with LoVe. Veronica, still shaken from Leo's death and hormonal from her pregnancy, was still undecided about whether to keep the baby. Logan received another note and rose from his stalker. Dick, who still doesn't remember the night of his accident, still hasn't given up on Mac, despite her desire to push him away for his own protection. Veronica was please to discover Carmen Ruiz working for the District Attorney's office.

* * *

**CHAPTER 2**

Logan sat on the front stoop of his house with the latest note from his stalker gripped tightly between his fingers.

_She's persistent, I'll give her that. _

He pushed his fingers through his hair and shook out the strands. His head hurt. In truth, every part of his body hurt when he looked at that note. The last one he'd received had been on the windshield of his car while he was at the hospital, and he had naively hoped that it was the last of them.

_Like father, like son. Aaron would be so proud._

Between Veronica's ear injury and the unseasonable rain nagging the town of Neptune, they had barely left the house. She wasn't allowed to get her ears wet, and that, coupled with her vertigo, made leaving home seem like more trouble than it was worth.

Never one to be housebound, especially when not by her own choice, Veronica was livid. Logan, however, was secretly grateful. Grounding Veronica meant he could keep a closer eye on her and would have an easier time protecting her. He would've gladly stayed inside for a year if it meant he could keep her safe.

"Well, if they were giving out gold stars for being creepy, this lady would be at the top of her class." Wallace rolled up the window on his black, Honda CRV, and turned off the motor.

_She'd probably be teaching the class._

Logan raised his eyebrows in agreement and stretched his legs out, crossing them at the ankles, while he waited for his friend to surface from the car. "All of this talk of death and salvation seemed a lot sexier in the movie 'Ghost'."

"I was thinking about a few things on the way over," Wallace said as he approached the front porch. "I don't see how in any of the three notes you showed me, she outright threatens you."

Logan scrolled through the photos on his phone and stopped on one of the first note. 'No matter how far you run, pain is eternal'? Not exactly an Elizabethan love sonnet."

Wallace sat down on the stoop next to him and looked over his shoulder. "And yet, still not a death threat. In fact, they kind of read more like love notes to me."

"'At death, there's rebirth'. Sexy. In fact, I may save that one for Ronnie's Valentine's Day card this year. Always looking for something new to keep things fresh." He scrolled to the next photo, swiping his finger harshly across the screen. "'There was only pain', Celine Dion should really mine this bad boy for her next hit ballad."

"Alright alright. I feel you, but all I mean is that these could mean something completely different in another context. We don't know what the hell she's trying to really tell you...and that's assuming it's even a she."

_Oh God. And I here thought it couldn't get any worse..._

Logan gave Wallace a dead-eyed glare.

Wallace chuckled and held his hands in surrender. "Just sayin'! Let me see the one you got last night?" he said, taking the note from Logan's hand.

_**My Dearest Logan,**_

_**Last night I dreamed that **_

_**'Death' wasn't necessary. **_

_**You were salvation. **_

_******- Always Watching**_

Wallace leaned forward excitedly and pointed to one of the lines on the note. "See? Right here she says that 'death wasn't necessary'."

"And yet, she still treated us to a beautiful pyrotechnic display by planting the pipe bomb in Veronica's car." Logan shook the memory from his head. Every time his mind wandered back to the explosion, he was overwhelmed by the sensation of helplessness he experienced while searching for Veronica amongst the rubble.

_If one of us gets offed by this psycho, it had better be me, because I'm not sure I can live through that feeling again._

"Listen, man, I'm not convinced she planted that bomb," Wallace said, dropping his own 'bomb' of sorts.

Logan grinned at Wallace with a secret amusement. "You're giving her the benefit of the doubt? Are you sure you're related to the Mars family?"

Wallace continued his train of thought. "Not to be obvious here, but it takes a certain amount of skill to pull something like that off, and something tells me the kind of women you usually 'date' aren't that well versed in blowing things up."

"They're good at blowing things out of proportion. Does that count?"

"You want to figure this shit out or crack jokes?" Wallace asked with annoyance. Logan waved his hand in the air for him to continue. "What if..." he said, while looking closely at the latest note, "she's not talking about you in these little messages?"

Logan's nervous energy propelled him to stand. It was hard enough for him to focus on one thing for this long, but to do it while sitting? Impossible. "They were left on my doorstep, so I'd say the deduction is elementary, my dear Wallace." His voice had an unmistakable edge to it now.

Wallace stood up to face him and showed him the screen on his phone. "'No matter how far you run, pain is eternal.**' **Could it be possible she meant 'you' as in everybody – you know, like a life lesson she's trying to pass along?"

_Huh. He may be on to something here._

His face looked pinched and he brought his hand roughly over it a few times to smooth out the creases. "What else?"

"She called you her salvation, that's a positive word." Wallace pursed his lips in a self-satisfied smile. "Also, if this chick is so hot to kill you, then why is the word 'death' in quotes and why did she wait two weeks between her letters?"

_Okay, he has a point there. For a stalker, she has the patience of a saint._

Though standing outdoors, Logan suddenly felt his lungs grow heavy with a need for oxygen. He grabbed the note back out of Wallace's hand and examined it closely. "I – I don't know what to say."

Wallace did a modified version of the 'Cabbage Patch'. "I think we should call up the New York Times or something." He wiped the air with his hand, as if reading a headline. "Logan Echolls finally rendered speechless. Neptune rejoices."

"I'll let you have your little moment, but then you need to use those Mars-Fennel superpowers to tell me what I should do next."

"You checked the playback feed?" Wallace had insisted on installing infrared cameras around his step-sister's house in the days following the explosion, in order to keep the area locked down. As of yet, they hadn't managed to capture anybody snooping around besides the odd reporter, but the stalker hadn't risked a drop off since before the cameras were installed, so that made perfect sense.

Logan nodded. "Yeah, but the image was worthless. She wore a big cloak with a hood covering her face. It was all very evil Jedi."

Wallace looked confused. "If Veronica can keep up with all of your whacked out references, I'm thinking you _must_ be soul mates. Anyway, you know what the next step is, don't you?"

_I know what YOU think is the next step._

The strangled feeling crept back into Logan's chest. "Her life is complicated enough as it is. And now, with this new assumption that the stalker is probably not even the one who killed Leo – well, I guess I still feel like we should take care of this without bothering her."

"Look, you have to live with her, so it's not my decision to make, but a word of caution for you, brother, as somebody who's been swimming in her wake for years, lying about shit like this? It's not going to end well for you."

_It wouldn't be the first time..._

"I need a drink."

"It's 10am."

"Your point, homie?"

"You are too fucking white. I'll meet you inside." Logan watched with interest as Wallace opened the hatch on his SUV. "I come bearing fruit." He held a wicker basket in his hands and then motioned to the shopping bag on the floor next to him. "You can carry that in."

* * *

Wallace followed Logan through the front door and suppressed the urge to roll his eyes as Logan gestured to him in artificial shock. "Look who came to visit, baby – it's Wallace!"

_Yeah, real convincing._

"You guys were out there forever. I was about to send out a search party," Veronica said, leaning up to kiss Logan as he approached the couch.

"Oh well, maybe next time." He sighed with disappointment. "You know me, I just love a good party." He kissed her quickly and then continued on toward the kitchen.

"Where are you going" she asked her boyfriend as she unrolled the legs on her pale green pajamas bottoms. She turned to Wallace and aped an exaggerated shiver.

_Don't know how she can be cold when she's always moving._

"We have orange juice, right?" Logan stopped short in front of the bar and pulled out three tumblers. "I'm making Screwdrivers."

Veronica looked at him like he was nuts. "Now?"

_That's what I said._

"I've gotta get screwed somehow, because it sure ain't happening upstairs." Logan smirked in a way Wallace knew Veronica would hate.

_Oh God. Would it be too messy to slice my own ears off? _

"I fell asleep. So sue me!"

_No. TMI. Gross. _

Wallace tried to sing the song "Jump Around" by 'House of Pain', in his head, but couldn't remember the lyrics.

_Damn. That song is nice and loud, too._

"I just might," Logan said, and disappeared into the kitchen in a huff.

"You guys are killing me." Wallace groaned as he inched further into the room. He clung desperately to the gift basket like it was a security blanket, happy in the fact that it almost fully obscured his upper half. "I seriously did not need to hear that. When are you people gonna learn how to keep all of that shit on the down low? Nobody wants any part of it."

"A fruit basket? I thought we were beyond that, Papa Bear. I mean, a close friend would have at least brought cured meats," Veronica said, hopping up from the couch, and leading him to the kitchen by his elbow.

Logan passed by the duo carrying a carton of orange juice, stopping only long enough to plant a kiss on his girlfriend's head as he continued on to the bar.

Wallace wrinkled his nose at the romantic display. "Firstly, Veronica, I thought we were done with all that Papa Bear crap."

She rolled over his first point dismissively. "You thought wrong. And secondly?"

"This basket is not from me. _Mommy_ wanted me to bring it over to you. She was afraid you and Logan might be getting scurvy since you haven't left the house more than once in 14 days."

"Aww, that Alicia really knows how to mother." Veronica broke open the plastic with a carving fork and covertly pulled all of the pears from the arrangement, promptly tossing them into the garbage. Wallace looked at her with curiosity. "Don't ask."

_Believe me, I've learned by lesson when it comes to asking about weird shit._

"Actually, _my_ mother sent a lasagna." He pulled a heavy dish from the shopping bag Logan had brought to the kitchen and dropped it onto the counter with a clatter. "The fruit basket is actually from _your_ mother."

Veronica lifted the basket and dropped the entire thing in the trash, then made a show of wiping her hands clean. "Can I get you a macchiato or a cortado?"

_What a shocker. Veronica's not in the mood to talk about her feelings. Well mom, I gave it my best shot_.

"You can ramble in Italian all you want, but we're talking about this," Wallace said, following her over to the espresso machine with a look of determination.

"No Wallace, the only thing I'm interested in talking about is this hot bitch espresso machine that Logan felt the need to drop 3G's on. It's obscene. I've nicknamed it Mothra. You know, after the monster from those Japanese horror films from the 1960's? My dad used to make me watch all of the 'classics' with him when I was a kid." Veronica opened a stainless steel pop container and scooped some coffee beans into the industrial strength grinder. "I keep telling my dad, just because it was made before I was born, does not make it a classic."

He positioned himself half in front of the machine to get her attention. "Anyway, as I was saying, we really need to talk about your moth-." Veronica pressed the 'on' button on the grinder, easily drowning out the rest of his words with it's sharp grating sound.

_Oh, no she did not!_

"Oh my dear little brother, as far as I'm concerned, I only have one mother in my life, and she has smooth, cocoa skin, and eyes the color of Hershey's kisses." She pressed the button one more time for good measure, causing Wallace to wince from the noise.

"Does everything always come back to food with you?" he asked.

"Dumb question. Next?"

_Keep it up, sis, and the next thing going into that bean grinder will be every surveillance bug you have lying around the house. Gotta hit her where it hurts._

An irritated noise erupted from the back of Wallace's throat. "Looks like Arrested Development isn't just a fly band from the 90's."

"True. It is also a hilarious TV show from the mid-aughts." Veronica tamped down the grounds and fixed the basket to the unit. "One shot or two?"

"You make the decision for me...you do for everything else." He pulled himself up onto the counter to sit.

Veronica pulled a carton of milk from the fridge and busied herself at the steam nozzle. "It's nice to know my skills at Java the Hut were not obtained in vain." She poured a fancy design into Wallace's cup and proudly presented it to him. "Voila."

He examined the edible artwork and nodded his approval. "Looks like you've got yourself a fall-back skill if this PI thing doesn't work out for you."

"Speaking of my PI thing..." She tilted her head to the side and smiled coquettishly. "I need a favor."

"No."

_Just...no. I value my life too much to go against my mother._

"I didn't even say what it was yet!" Veronica carped.

Just watching the look of shock cross her face made Wallace a little warm and fuzzy inside.

_Not every day I get to throw her for a loop._

She frowned, and he felt his resolve weaken. "This is only, like, the second or third favor I've asked you to do for me since I've been back working."

"Injuries and kidnappings aside, you've only been working about three weeks." He blew on his cappuccino and took a careful sip. "Anyway, I don't do professional favors for people who have been forbidden to work by Keith Mars. Consider yourself blacklisted."

She crossed her arms over her chest and stared at him, unimpressed. "Blacklisted? Does Senator McCarthy know you're stealing his schtick?"

_Old school joke. I appreciate the effort._

"Look, V, your dad would kill me if he knew I was helping you do something dangerous, and don't even get me started on your grandma out there mixing drinks in the other room. The things he does when he thinks you're in trouble - I've seen the results and they ain't pretty. I don't need to be on the receiving end of a Piznarski-style beatdown."

Veronica scoffed and pulled herself up onto the counter next to Wallace. "There's no way he'd beat your ass like a pinata, not if he ever wanted to see me naked again."

_Ugh. This again? Lalalalalaa I can't hear you!_

Wallace pretended to dry heave. "I _was _enjoying this coffee. Hey, how come you're not having one?"

She kicked her legs back and forth against the cabinet door. "Just cutting back. Apparently, excessive caffeine – _not_ a cure-all for insomnia as I was led to believe." She expected a response, but he simply continued to nurse his drink in silence.

_Oh snap. If there's one thing Miss Veronica can't stand, it's being stonewalled._

Unable to withstand the suspense any longer, she piped in. "So, are you going to help me or not? You know you want to...life is less boring with me back in town."

_Oh man. She got me. I really do miss the hijinks._

He sighed heavily and took another sip of his coffee. "Speak."

"I have a new client, but Kathy Bates over there is not about to let me leave the house to go to the office," She stuck out her tongue with a raspberry sound and gestured in Logan's general direction with her thumb. "He doesn't seem to get that some of us actually have to work for a living."

"Why can't you invite the client to come by here?" he asked.

Veronica laughed nervously.

His mouth settled into a flat line. "What? Did you date this guy or something?"

"No, but I can't say I woulda kicked him out of bed for eating crackers." She waggled her eyebrows. "It's Connor Larkin."

_Say what?_

Wallace broke into a grin. "Connor Larkin, like, star of 'Triple Overkill', and 'Space Cop'?"

Veronica smiled. "The very same."

_No shit!_

"Logan knows him?" he asked, slightly impressed, despite his attempt to stay cool.

"Remember that time Logan hosted that high-stakes poker game junior year and Weevil won, but somebody stole all of the money?"

Wallace had a vague recollection of Veronica being all pinched up about a bunch of journals written about her on a computer. "Oh yeah. Your boy Duncan had his laptop stolen, right?"

"That's right. Well, Connor was there too. Guess my PI prowess made quite an impression on him," she said.

_That, and your ass. A guy doesn't remember a girl's details eight years after the fact unless he was impressed with something other than her moxie._

"So you know him? What's he like?"

"Shallow and pretty. Not a bad guy though, considering those tight abs could probably help him get away with mass murder." She paused for a second.

_Is she thinking about his abs? Seriously, I'm gonna need to get really drunk later today to block all this sexy crap out._

Wallace snapped his fingers. "Earth to Mars."

"Yeah." She snapped out of her reverie. "So, I need you to get Logan out of the house for a few hours today. I could ask Weevil to take me to the office, but Conner asked to speak with me alone, so I figured it would be easier for him to come here. Logan's not a fan."

_Yeah, I'll fucking bet he's not._

"You sure all he wants to do is talk?" Wallace made a kissy face and a suggestive hand gesture to match.

"Stop. You're making me feel sick." Veronica placed the back of one hand over her mouth and took a deep breath, hoping to quell the nausea that had come out of nowhere.

At first Wallace felt vindicated, but when he realized she was really feeling ill, his face pinched with concern. "You okay, boo?"

* * *

Veronica nodded rapidly, but she could feel her stomach roll. "Golden. Hey, look, I've got to run and get something from upstairs. I'll be back in a jiff."

_...or two jiffs, depending on just how barfy I get._

Taking off at top speed for the staircase, she nearly knocked Logan over on her way up.

_I'd stop to apologize, honey, if the result wouldn't end up jacking up our staircase with my sick._

She pushed open the door to the en suite bathroom, closed it tightly behind her, and then lunged to open the toilet cover, just in time to vomit twice into the ceramic bowl.

_That's better...though my starting point was pretty low, so I'm not sure this can actually be considered 'good' by comparison._

She wiped her mouth off with a wad of toilet paper and then flushed the contents down.

_I really thought you would have enjoyed Belgian waffles, baby. You are my kid, right?_

Unsure if she was about to endure another round,Veronica lifted the edge of the toilet cover for a moment, and then changed her mind and dropped it back down again. She leaned against the cabinets to get her bearings.

A loud knock at the door startled Veronica. "Yeah?"

Without waiting for the go-ahead, Logan let himself into the bathroom.

_Don't bother waiting. Jeez._

"I almost wish you caught me doing something more disgusting, just to teach you a lesson about coming in without permission," she said, miffed at the violation of her privacy.

"This was disgusting enough, baby. Trust." Logan closed the door behind him and walked over to the sink. "Anyway, I'm sorry. I heard you retching and I was worried about you. You almost KO'd me on your way up the stairs, so I figured something had to be really wrong with you."

_Impossible to stay mad at! Argh!_

She shook her head. "Just a little vertigo."

He filled a glass with water, then knelt down beside Veronica and handed it to her.

Veronica took a small sip off of the top and enjoyed the sensation of the cool water extinguishing the burning in her throat. "Thanks."

Logan rubbed lazy circles on her back and she felt all of the tension leave her body. "Wallace just asked if I wanted to shoot a game of pickup with him, but there's no way in hell I'm leaving you here like this, alone."

_And...it begins._

"I'm fine, it's not remotely a big deal. I think you should go." She dropped her head onto his chest and he took the glass of water from her, reached up and put it on the counter. "One of us should really get some fresh air this month."

"Fresh air?" He looked at her with suspicion. "You used to be more creative with your misdirection. I have to admit I'm a little disappointed."

_Crap. He was a lot easier to snow when we didn't live together._

"Looooogaaaan." She moaned in frustration and tried to pull herself off of him, but he tightened his arms around her.

"Not so fast."

"If you bring the doctor out here for this..." Veronica brandished a threatening look.

Logan threw his arms in the air. "Well, I'm not leaving you alone. How about Alicia? Could you live with her presence here?"

_This is the best I'm gonna do, clearly, but I need him out of the house._

"Fine." She said, knowing he wouldn't let up until she agreed to have somebody babysit her. "Now go strap on your kicks. You're going to need all of the time you can get to warm up before Wallace schools your ass on the court."

* * *

Mac rolled over while sleeping and knocked into something hard with her legs. "Ouch."

_What the hell is in my bed?_

She opened one eye slowly and recognized her coffee table to be the culprit.

_Fuck. Did I fall asleep out here?_

Mac winced as she pulled herself out of the uncomfortable position she'd woken up in, and stretched her limbs.

_What's that smell?_

She could hear the sound of something wet splattering onto something hot and took a deep whiff.

_Pancakes?_

"Dick?" she shouted from the couch as she scrambled to get up.

_Is he really still here? _

Dick poked his head out from her pass-through kitchen window. "Oh hey, you're finally up. Pancake? Not sure if they taste funky though, because I had to use that weird coconut milk you had in your fridge. I didn't even know one could milk a coconut. You're all out of the normal stuff, by the way."

_I really should be pissed that he crashed here, but damn if those pancakes don't smell good._

"You're cooking?" she asked as though it were a foreign concept. "How do you even know how?"

Using an oversized spatula, he flipped the last of the uncooked pancakes over with finesse. "I know this is hard to believe, Macster, but there are actually quite a few things I've learned how to do in the past few years that you're totally unaware of." Dick forked two large pancakes onto an empty plate and shoved them across the breakfast bar in Mac's direction. "I can tie my own shoes, too."

"Oh God. You know what I meant, you goon." Mac hopped up onto one of the stools at the bar. "They look really good actually. Thanks, Dick." She flashed her dimples at him and caught a sly smile spread across his lips as he continued to toil away in the kitchen.

"I tried to make those small ones first, because chicks dig tiny things, but it was like, a pancake wipeout in the most major sense of the word. I blame the coconut milk." He pulled a fork and a knife out of the silverware drawer and slapped them down next to her.

Mac continued to stare at him in shock. "You know where I keep my silverware?"

"I've been up a while. Maple syrup?" he asked, pulling the bottle from the fridge door and plunking it down next to Mac's plate.

She nodded, still in a daze, and drizzled some syrup onto her pancakes. "Thanks."

The door buzzer rang, but before Mac could slide off of her stool to answer it, Dick started walking toward the front door. "I've got it."

"Dick, what are you doing? Whoever is at the door is going to think we had sex last night!"

_Kinda wish we did..._

"Who cares? It's not like you're saving yourself for marriage...are you?" He stopped short and looked at her with trepidation.

Not feeling like opening her sex life up for discussion, she waved him away. "Fine. Just go already."

"You should eat that while it's hot. I don't know how they're gonna taste once they cool down. You know, because of the weird-ass coconut milk." He disappeared into the hallway.

"It's not that weird, Dick. There are more civilizations that don't drink cow's milk than do, you know!" Mac called after him, then edged off the corner of one of her pancakes with a fork and put it in her mouth.

_It's edible. Okay, it's more than edible, it's really good. I don't know why I'm so surprised._

"Man, and all this time I've been giving my tax write-off money to the Neptune Food Bank. I'll have to call my accountant and tell him to shoot some cash to one of those places instead," he shouted back, from the foyer.

Mac thought about enlightening him about the vegan cause, but thought better of it.

_He's only now just getting a handle on the concept of veggie burgers._

No sooner had he turned the corner than she dropped her fork onto her plate with a clatter, and lunged for her handbag, which was still on the floor next to the kitchen table from the night before. She furiously texted Veronica. **'Dick is cooking me breakfast for me right now, WTF?' **

The phone beeped back almost immediately with a response. **'That's a euphemism for sex?'**

Mac typed **'I wish' **and then sent it before she realized what she'd just summarily admitted to.

_Apparently my verbal filter does not apply to texting. Good to know._

Veronica: **'Does he remember that night yet?'**

Mac: **'Nope'**

Veronica:_** '**_**Interesting...'**

Mac: **'That's a euphemism for...?'**

Veronica: **'Not a euphemism - just find it interesting'**

Mac: **'What's so interesting?'**

Veronica: **'That he's falling for you twice'**

Mac looked at the plate of pancakes in front of her and epiphany hit. That night in Carmel wasn't a fluke, or some booze and emotion fueled hookup, Dick actually did like her. Why does she keep waiting for the punchline, then?

Veronica: **'I just blew your mind, I love it when I do that (smiley face)'**

Dick walked back into the kitchen holding a small package and a card. "This came for you."

**'Gotta go, he's back' **Mac sent quickly and then pocketed her phone.

Her brow bunched with curiosity as Dick placed the small box directly into her hands. "This isn't from you, right?"

He started to laugh. "Why would I pay for some guy to deliver something to you when I'm standing right next to you?"

_That wasn't embarrassing at all._

"Good point." She pulled the expensive-looking bow off of the box and lifted the top off of it. "Huh."

Nestled inside of the box was another one - a long, velvet-covered one with hinges. She placed the outer box on the table and opened the lid of the inner box.

"Fuck me," Dick exclaimed as she lifted a blue, sapphire tennis bracelet out from the inside. "You never mentioned you had a sugar daddy, Mac."

She looked at him sharply. "I have no idea who this is even from."

_Bullshit. You totally know, and by the look on Dick's face, so does he._

"Really? You have a lot of guys send over expensive jewelry, do ya?" He seemed tense as he stomped off into the kitchen.

Mac held the bracelet up to the light. It was exquisite, she couldn't deny that, but there was no way she could afford to accept something like that. Not from him.

_Can I really afford NOT to accept it, though?_

She returned to her seat at the breakfast bar and placed the velvet box on the counter next to her. Dick was ignoring her, refusing to make eye contact, and it was nagging at her already frayed nerves.

"This came with it," he said as he flicked a small square envelope onto the counter in front of her plate.

Mac looked at the pale blue card as if it were toxic waste, and it might as well have been, since the words it contained were probably just as hazardous to her health.

"Aren't you gonna open it? You don't want to hear what your boyfriend has to say for himself?" he asked, then dumped the hot frying pan into her sink and turned on the cold water, creating a loud hissing sound. He glowered at her, the heat of his stare making her feel both aroused and uncomfortable at the same time.

A plume of steam obscured the air space between the two of them for a moment, and then dissipated as quickly as it came. Her eyes tilted up to meet his. "You know he's not my boyfriend."

Dick shrugged and walked toward the stove, then nonchalantly tossed the spatula into the sink from five feet away. "Do I? I've never gotten a chick jewelry unless I was banging her."

"You've never gotten a chick jewelry. Period." She looked down at her pancakes and took another bite of food, suddenly realizing she'd lost her appetite.

_Why should I let him make me feel guilty about this? It's not like he's my boyfriend. Neither of them are._

"That's not true," he said quietly, but neglected to elaborate. Mac quickly flipped through a Rolodex of old girlfriends in her head and tried to figure it out.

_Anybody but Madison. I wonder if he even remembers what I told him about that bitch._

Mac reached across the counter and lifted the note out of the envelope.

_**I tried to find something to match your eyes, **_

_**but soon realized it was impossible. **_

_**This was the best I could do. **_

_**Dinner at 8pm tonight?**_

_**A**_

"The dude's got game. I'll give him that," Dick grumbled under his breath. "You gonna keep it?"

Mac looked at the box on the table then back up at Dick. "I'm not sure I have a choice in the matter."

He nodded. "Dude's a badass action villain if I ever saw one. He'd eat the real Hans Gruber for lunch."

"Speaking of eating...he wants me to have dinner with him tonight," she said, and waited cautiously for his reaction.

Dick gave her a tight smile. "Have fun."

He took off for the living room and started loading his gear into the duffel bag he'd brought everything over in.

Mac's heart started to pound faster. "Where – why are you going?"

"I've gotta bounce. Got a few things I've got to take care of. Believe it or not, Phoenix Land Trust stuff," he said as he wedged his feet into his Tevas.

_Phoenix Land Trust?_

If she hadn't already lost most of her appetite, that surely would have done the trick.

She stood up and followed Dick to the door. "Okay. Um, thanks for coming over last night, for the beer and the breakfast, and well...you know, all of it."

_Way to sound eloquent._

Dick opened her door, then turned to her, displaying his patented impish smile. "Tip of the iceberg, my friend."

"What?" She half chuckled at her inability to understand his parting words.

"I'll be back in two hours. Leave the bling at home," he said, chucking her under the chin gently.

"Two hours? What's happening in two hours, Dick?" she called out to his retreating figure. "How do you know I'm even free in two hours?"

_Of course you're free. What else were you going to do – defrag your hard drive?_

"Sayonara, Mack-attack!"

_I'd like to defrag his hard drive._

Mac watched until he disappeared into her elevator, then shut her front door and promptly slid down the back of it.

* * *

Veronica watched anxiously as Alicia took a sip of her designer coffee and placed the teacup onto the kitchen table. "Not sure I would have let your father drop three grand on it, but I can certainly see the appeal."

Now fully-dressed in a pair of jeans and a fitted, striped polo, Veronica sank into the seat across from her step-mother. "I don't 'let' Logan do anything. He does what he does. Unfortunately, I don't have the power to reign in the spending on his crazy whims, because I don't control the purse-strings in this house. Mainly because it's not my purse."

Alicia looked at her skeptically. "Oh, please. Like you couldn't put a stop to it if you wanted to?"

"Maybe, but expensive hobbies are Logan's 'thing', plus his mind is a dangerous weapon when it's left idle, and this is behemoth is a hell of a lot cheaper than bail," she said, gesturing to the espresso machine. "I like to pick my battles."

"Maybe you_ are _ready for marriage." She said teasingly and lifted her coffee cup to her lips.

Veronica groaned. "Don't you start, too."

"I'm your step-mother. I'm allowed to be annoying about this kind of stuff. Anyway, you and I both know you'd rather have this conversation with me than your dad."

Desperate to change the subject, Veronica's mind drifted toward food. "Can I get you something to eat?" she asked, standing up too quickly for her own good. She gripped the edge of the table with both hands and pressed her lips together firmly to bite back the nausea welling inside of her.

_When am I going to learn to move more slowly already?_

"You okay?" Alicia asked, with a critical eye.

_Crap. I know that look._

She nodded and plastered on a smile. "Just getting over a stomach thing."

"Logan didn't mention you had a stomach flu," Alicia said.

_That's because I'm making this up as I go along._

"He didn't want to worry you guys." She promptly left the table and walked over to the fridge, glancing back over her shoulder. "So...food?"

Veronica followed Alicia's gaze drift toward the basket of fruit sitting idly in the garbage can. "I see you got your mother's fruit basket."

"Alicia, I don't mean to be rude, but I'm not in the mood right now, okay? I'm still getting over this...thing." She leaned her forehead against the fridge and closed her eyes.

"Right. The 'thing'." Alicia stood up and walked over to the spice cabinet and rummaged around.

"Can I help you find something?" Veronica asked as she pressed her cheek against the cold metal door for comfort.

"Nope. Got it." She pulled down a bag of candied ginger, opened it and handed Veronica a piece. "Ginger. It's great for nausea. Chew on it a bit, then keep it wedged in your cheek. Anytime you're feeling nauseated, you can chew it a couple of times and it will help. You can swallow it when you've had enough."

"Thank you." Veronica put the candied ginger in her mouth and chewed down a few times. The spicy hit from the root instantly began to lift her malaise.

Alicia put her hand on Veronica's forehead to feel for a fever. "Yeah, I used to go through a lot of candied ginger when I was pregnant with Darrell."

She averted her eyes. "Well, I think it's helping, so...thanks," she said and brushed past Alicia to avoid further questions.

"You're pregnant."

Veronica stopped short at Alicia's words, but couldn't bring herself to turn around. "No. I have the flu."

"You invited me over to keep an eye on you while you held a business meeting during the throes of a contagious stomach flu?" Alicia leaned back against the kitchen counter and crossed her arms over her chest. "This is no flu."

_Okay – giving it one last gasp._

She slid into her chair, then turned to look at her step-mother and faked a lighthearted laugh. "Alicia, it really is. Don't tempt fate, you know?" She laughed again, this time more hollowly, and knocked three times for luck on the top of her butcher's block table.

Alicia smiled placidly and remained unmoved. "Lie to my face one more time."

_The jig is up. Time to pack away the accordion and go home. _

Veronica rubbed both hands roughly over her tired features. "Fine. I – I am," she said, followed by a long exhale.

_That wasn't as hard as I thought it would be._

"How far along?" The older woman moved quickly, pulling a chair next to her ailing step-child.

She made eye contact with Alicia for the first time since she'd arrived. "Eight weeks."

She raised an eyebrow. "I'm guessing from this charade that you haven't told Logan yet?"

Veronica fanned the air in front of her. "A sin of omission, if anything, really."

_I'm not even buying this and it's coming out of my own mouth!_

Alicia's gaze steeled in affront. "Veronica Mars, who the hell do you think you're talking to?"

She sighed heavily and rested her head in her hands on the table. "Okay. Fine. Yes, I've kept it from him."

"Why?"

"I don't know," she said, getting agitated. "I guess I wasn't sure what I wanted to do about it yet."

_Liar._

Alicia chuckled to herself. "Even at 17, you were the least indecisive person I'd ever met. If you didn't want to be pregnant, Veronica, you would have done something about it by now."

_She's not wrong about me. Why is she always so on the money? My dad has got to find this annoying._

Veronica picked her head up once again. "I never thought about it that way. Maybe you're right."

"You know I'm right."

"Fine! God! Did Wallace get away with _anything_ when he was a kid?" she asked in mock exasperation.

Alicia narrowed her gaze conspiratorially. "Only the stuff I let him get away with. Now, why haven't you told Logan?"

Veronica tried to shake the memory from her head. "He said he didn't want kids. Said he thought he'd make a bad father."

She combed back Veronica's hair and stroked her head. "Aww, they all say that, honey, and 90% of them are wrong."

"I don't know." Veronica shrugged sadly. "I don't know. He seemed pretty repulsed by the idea when it came up."

_I believe the term 'good argument for birth control' was used in conjunction with a crying baby?_

Alicia leaned in and smiled at her. "That boy loves himself more than anybody has a right to, and he loves you even more than that. Do you honestly think there's a chance he's not going to love the combination?"

Tears started to build behind Veronica's eyes but she held them off. "Thanks."

"Don't thank me, it's my job."

_If only everybody took the job more seriously._

Veronica laughed bitterly. "One would think."

Alicia looked at her with empathy. "We talking about Lianne now."

"No."

"That actually wasn't a question. I think a lot of this craziness you've got going on is related to her popping back up in your life," she said, as she pulled her coffee cup in front of her.

_Obviously, but that doesn't mean I'm even remotely prepared to talk about it. I can barely stand to hear her name, now that I know what I do about her._

Veronica stiffened and bit on the edge of her thumb nail for distraction. "She's not in my life."

"Maybe that's the problem?"

_Ha. The problem is that she was ever in my life to begin with._

Veronica shook her head almost violently. "No. Look, I appreciate what you're trying to do, but I'm just not interested. You and my dad are _more _than enough parents for me, and hey, you even chose to do it, you weren't forced into the job by an accident of birth."

Alicia now looked at Veronica with what could only be unmistakable pity. "You'll understand better once you have the baby."

_That's what they all say._

Veronica scoffed. "Field mice give birth, that doesn't make them great mothers."

"You're going to be a great mother, Veronica," Alicia said with a warm smile as she cupped the side of her face.

_You think - what?_

She wasn't sure if it was emotional exhaustion, the maternal attention she had been without for so long, the viscous morning sickness currently holding her gastric system in a death grip, or a combination of all three, but the dam finally broke, and so did Veronica.

Tears streamed down her cheeks as she hiccuped the air in gasps. "Do you really think so? I mean, how the hell would I know how to be a great mother? I never had one until now."

"Oh honey." She felt Alicia wrap her toned arms around her body and she buried her face in her step-mother's shoulder. "Of course I think so! You're smart and passionate, and ferocious when it comes to protecting the people you love. You never flinch when it comes to risking your own safety to help somebody else. You've got the goods to be an amazing mother, and everything else you guys will just figure out as you go along. Also, your father and I won't be more than a phone call away if you need help."

"You are going to _so _regret making that offer!" Both women laughed at the prospect.

"So what's wrong, don't you think Logan would make a good father?"

_Does it matter what I think, when he so clearly thinks he'll turn out to be a monster like his dad?_

Veronica swallowed hard to wet her throat, which had grown hoarse from crying. "I honestly think he would be an amazing father."

Alicia grabbed a napkin off of the table and dried Veronica's tears with it. "Well I doubt he would have picked up those amazing parenting skills from Aaron Echolls."

She felt herself nod in understanding. She wasn't Lianne, any more than Logan was Aaron. She had the strength that her mother never had, and Logan was more compassionate and loving than his entire family combined. They were their own people, the sum of their collective experiences.

"Okay."

"Okay, what?"

Veronica sniffed and then broke out into a smile. "Okay, I'll tell him."

* * *

**A/N - ****Sending out much appreciation again for all of the reviews/favs/alerts. I read each and every one of your comments and I plan to respond to them all in the next few days. Please let me know what you think of this chapter - I live for your reviews!**

**PS - As always, much love to the best beta virtual money can buy, Silverlining2k6**


	3. Chapter 3

**Many apologies for not answering all of your reviews this week, but unfortunately, my two little ones decided to get the stomach flu for three days each - three days apart (the tiny one still has it), so I was been kind of out of luck as far as spare time was concerned. I promise it'll get done this weekend. I love and appreciate all of your comments, so please keep 'em coming.**

**Oh and somebody PM'd about the timeline. Chapter 1 was Friday, Chapter 2 was Saturday morning, Chapter 3 is Saturday afternoon. Not sure if Chapter 4 will be only Saturday night or if we'll jump into Sunday as well (I'm leaning that way). I know you all probably miss Weevil and Keith, but I promise they'll be back soon. There is only so much room in a chapter.**

* * *

Previously: Logan got another stalker card and Wallace thinks the person isn't linked to the bomb. Lianne sent Veronica a fruit basket, which she tossed. Wallace tried to talk with her about it, but she shut him down - but not before getting him to agree to distract Logan while she secretly met with a client in her house. Mac woke up to Dick making her breakfast, then got an expensive bracelet from Alexei and a demand for a dinner date. Dick decided to counter that by insisting Mac have lunch with him. Alicia guessed (from Veronica's nausea) that V was pregnant, and convinced her to tell Logan about it.

* * *

**CHAPTER 3**

Logan wasn't in the passenger's seat of Wallace's car more than ten seconds before he noticed the Cheshire grin creeping its way across his face. "We're not going to play basketball, are we?"

Wallace put the car into reverse and pulled out of the driveway onto the street. "You catch on quick. Now, we have two hours away from your tiny taskmaster to do some sleuthing, so we'd better make it count."

Logan leaned the passenger seat back in Wallace's SUV and grabbed the top of the door frame, letting his arm hang out past the open window. "And exactly where, pray tell, shall our sleuthing begin?"

Wallace shrunk at Logan's words, looking completely unamused. "Okay, you need to stop talking like that. Save it for somebody who appreciates irony. Or Shakespeare."

"Oh, you can play gruff detective all you want, but I know that inside of that crusty shell lies the heart of a poet, Wallace."

"You got me. I _do _love me a haiku..."

_So, you're quick on and off the court. Looks like we might be able to be friends after all._

"I feel like I'm currently starring in the world's least enjoyable buddy flick." Logan laughed to himself about their unlikely pairing. '_He_, is a pampered rich boy from the most exclusive part of town; _He_, is a street urchin, scrapping his way up the the food chain. Together, they make the oddest couple the screen has seen since Firestone & Ice...'." He made the etcetera gesture with his hand. "Hilarity ensues."

"I'm from the suburbs, man!" Wallace barked out through his sour expression.

"You're ruining my 'bit'." Logan barely spared his friend a glance before turning back to look out of the window. "Just go with it."

Wallace's brow bunched in thought. "Hey, didn't your dad do a buddy cop movie with Carl Weathers in the 80's?" he asked as he turned the car onto the main road.

That got Logan's attention. "I'm fairly sure everybody over the age of 50 did a buddy cop movie with Carl Weathers in the 80's. And yes, it was called 'PB & Jamm'. I'll let you guess which one Aaron played."

"PB & Jamm! I remember that one! My dad rented it one weekend when I was little. I think we must've watched it about ten times. 'Move one inch and I'll slice yo crust off!'. Oh man, I think we quoted that thing all weekend."

"Sounds like you spent more time watching it than Aaron spent with me during the filming of the sequel."

Wallace shot Logan a sympathetic look and gave him an upward nod with his chin. "The sequel sucked."

Logan smiled at the effort.

_I can see why Ronnie bothered to cut him down from the flagpole that day. This guy really knows how to get your back._

It still hurt, even so many years later, but what could he do? The past was the past and no amount of wishful thinking would turn back the hands of time and give him a functional childhood. But what he had now with Veronica, as an adult, was a good trade. She made him feel loved, and if he concentrated really hard, he could almost fool himself into believing that he had always felt that way.

As far as he was concerned, his life started at 24, and everything before that was just a bad dream.

_That's why I have to keep her safe. _

"What's on the agenda?" Logan asked, leaning out of the window to let the wind catch his hair and whip it around his face.

Wallace entered an address on his GPS and turned to look at him. "Well, I figured we should start with the concrete stuff, you know?"

"Which would be?"

"The concrete stuff. The stuff you can touch." He looked at the engineer like he was speaking Chinese. "The _material_, man. That was some fancy ass card stock your little love notes were written on. They looked handmade."

_Oh right. Leave it to an mechanical engineer to think of the way things get made._

Logan smirked. "You never struck me as the craftsy type, Wallace."

"The paper was reconstituted in a press." He looked at Logan and frowned at his bemused smile. "I know materials, I dealt with shit like this for three years in my master's program."

He held his hands aloft. "No man, I sing the praises of your specified and highly esoteric knowledge base."

"Yeah? Well get ready to write a hymn about me." Wallace reached over and lifted one of the cards out of Logan's hands and then flipped it over. "There's a hand written lot number on the back and a 'Made in the USA' stamp. I doubt Hallmark has the bandwidth to pump out a gross of these bad boys." He handed the card back to Logan, who traced his finger over the embossed stamp.

"Did you find out where these were made?"

"Google is my friend." Wallace brandished a mega-watt smile. "The cards are made by a pair of artists, a middle-aged lesbian couple up in Napa Valley. It's some super high-end shit and costs a fortune. There are only ten places in the world where the cards are distributed. Five are on the East Coast, two are in Switzerland, two are in LA and guess where the last one is?"

_Damn. I didn't think he could pull it off. Guess when you marry into the Mars family, you absorb a little bit of their superpowers. Maybe there's hope for me yet...that is, if I can ever get Veronica to marry me. _

Logan gestured his deferment. "I'm sorry for doubting you. Clearly the force is strong within the Mars-Fennel clan."

"Holla."

"So what is this place, a Bergdorf-level, Hallmark for the over-privileged sentimentalist?" Logan absentmindedly flicked the side of his cheek to make a popping sound.

"Nope, it's just a rich-people wedding planner. I guess that racket is a competitive biz and anything you can get that somebody else can't, gives you the edge."

"So which one of us is getting married?" Logan asked.

"We both are," Wallace said, and waited for a reaction.

Logan looked at Wallace with confusion until his smirk made the cover scenario crystal clear. He laughed at the proposition and shrugged his shoulders. "Can't say I blame you. How could you possibly resist all of this?" His hands caressed the entirety of his torso.

Wallace frowned in disgust. "Do that again and I'll drop your ass off on the side of the road and make you walk there."

Logan stuck the tip of his index finger into his mouth and batted his eyelashes. "You used to like my body. What happened to us, Wallace?"

Wallace jerked the car to the shoulder of the road and rolled to a stop. "Get the fuck outta my car!"

Logan laughed heartily at his discomfort and remained firmly planted in his seat.

* * *

Carrying two Whole Foods bags on his good side and a faded college comforter slung over the bad one, Dick led Mac on a trek up a particularly scenic bluff.

Mac struggled to keep up with him, the incline and distance proved to be too hard to tackle with short legs. "When I asked you to take me somewhere secluded, I meant just far enough that Alexei's goons wouldn't be able to find us."

"Sorry. I forgot what a runt you were with those tiny legs," he said, taking a moment to check her legs out in his peripheral vision.

_Nice._

"Not that I don't love to hike, Dick, it's just..." Mac stopped for a moment to catch her breath. "You know what? Fuck that, I'll be honest. I don't love to hike. My parents make me do it every Summer and it's like, the lowlight of my vacation."

Dick glanced over his shoulder at her, and then continued on at a slower pace. "I don't know, it sounds pretty cool to me."

"You like to hike?" Mac asked, with a look of horror on her face.

He dipped his head down and laughed, but kept his eyes and feet forward. "Nah. I meant the family stuff. It's cool that your parents want to spend that much time with you."

_Mine sure as hell don't want anything to do with me._

Mac quickened her step until she was at his side. "I'm sorry. That was kind of a douchey thing to say to a guy who doesn't have any family around. I guess I should be more grateful for what I have."

Dick turned to look at her and shrugged as best he could with an injured shoulder. "It is what it is, Mac, you know? I don't like to waste my time thinking about what I don't have. You shouldn't waste time feeling bad about stuff that doesn't hurt anybody but you. Life is too fucking short."

She smiled at the ground. "You are always full of surprises, Dick Casablancas, I'll give you that."

"I like to keep the ladies on their toes."

_...and backs._

Dick slowed his gait and then unceremoniously dropped the bags to the ground, followed by the blanket. "Bam!" He gestured out over the cliff toward the water.

Mac stood silently next to him for a moment, taking in the view. It felt comfortable. He didn't feel the need to fill up the silences, like he always did.

If there was one thing that Dick hated, it was silence. He'd had too much of it in his life over the past few years, and found it to be oppressive in its aggression. It was always calling attention to itself, always reminding him of his place in the world – alone – with the only soul who ever cared about him gone with the wind.

_This isn't so bad. The quiet doesn't bother me so much when she's around._

Dick wrapped his good arm around Mac's waist to pulled her closer to his side, and to his delight, she went willingly.

"It's amazing," Mac said as she leaned forward to examine the craggy cliff side below. "How did you even find it?"

He dreaded answering the question, even though he knew she would ask it, and he knew it was the real reason he'd brought her up there in the first place.

"I, um, came up here to think. You know, _after_." He figured she was smart enough to extrapolate the full meaning from his words. "It was kind of hard for me with nobody around to talk to about it, so I just started walking one afternoon, and eventually I just ended up here."

Her expression changed into one he couldn't read. "Did you - do you come up here to talk to...?"

_God, she's probably gonna run away screaming after I spill my guts, but I don't know. I just kinda want her to know, for some reason._

Dick nodded his head slowly, and kept his eyes ahead. It was easier like that.

She cleared her throat, and continued watching the waves crashing against the shoreline. "I used to go to the beach to talk to him too, never anywhere as scenic as this, but you know...it was a place that had some meaning to us."

He felt a pang of irrational jealousy stir in his gut.

_What are you getting jealous for, dude? Beav is dead. She's here with you right now...even if there is a sleazy Bond villain waiting to take her to dinner when you get back._

"Man, he had a whole other life I knew nothing about." Dick angled his head slightly to avoid having his shaggy mane blowing in his face.

Mac scoffed. "You're not the only one, Dick. I think the majority of Neptune was surprised by Cassidy's secret life."

He let his fingers drift over her hip and hook into one of the empty belt loops on her cargo pants. "I guess he was too smart for his own good."

Mac swiveled around to look at his face without breaking contact. "Can I ask you something weird, and maybe a little morbid?"

Dick took a deep breath and prepared himself. "Hey, it definitely wouldn't shock me if you did."

"You never had a funeral for Cassidy, so I never – you know what? Forget my lips are even moving. This is _so_ not the carefree lunch you probably had planned." She turned a light shade of pink and buried her face into the uninjured side of his chest.

_Actually, this is exactly how I planned it._

"There you go again, being all embarrassed and cute. It's almost like you _want _me to throw you down on that blanket and have my wicked way with you."

_If I say it enough, she might actually say yes by accident one time._

Mac tipped her head up and rolled her eyes at him. "This is the best you've got? Your wooing skills are legendary, Casablancas. Are you telling me that this is really what gets the ladies into the sack?" She pulled out of his grasp and bent over to shake out the blanket and lay it flat for them to sit on. "I'm guessing that you can probably do a bit better than that, no?" Her lips curled up into a seductive smile.

Dick's eyes widened. "Are you saying you _want_ me to do better than that?"

She plopped down onto the blanket and kicked her Pumas off. "I'm saying I'm hungry."

_Now, just add a 'for you' at the end of that and we're set._

"Alright MacKenzie, settle down." He toed out of his shoes and sat down next to her on the blanket, then pulled the Whole Foods bags over and stuck his hand into one of them.

Mac tried to peer into the bag, but he blocked her vision with his shoulder. "Somebody has shitty table manners."

She crossed her arms over her chest and her features took on an impish hue. "I don't see a table."

"Relax already, grumpy. I brought your bunny food." Dick pulled a sand bucket out of one of the bags, followed by several gel cold packs and a bottle of champagne.

Mac's giant eyes grew larger. "From the way you drink beer, I didn't even know you knew champagne existed."

He busied himself setting up the food on the blanket. "I grew up rich, Mackie. We all drink this stuff like it's tap water. Also, most of us like to fly to Paris sometimes for lunch."

She scrunched her nose. "Really?"

_Her expression is ridiculously freaking cute whenever I get the drop on her._

"No, not really. Dude, you'd believe anything I tell you about people with money, huh?" Dick laughed and tossed a bunch of daffodils at her. "I'm not really sure where I thought we were going to put those, but they kind of reminded me of you...or whatever. So..."

"Thanks. They're beautiful," Mac almost whispered, then perched onto her knees and sniffed the bouquet of daffodils. "Have you ever been? To France?"

He pulled out a plastic platter then opened up and dumped a bag of pitas onto it. "Of course. I've been going to Europe at least twice a year since I was born. My mom even lives in France most of the time. "

She laughed and threw one of the flowers back at him. "Now, I know you're joking."

Dick snapped the stem of the flower off and tucked it behind her ear before opening up a container of grape leaves. "No, I was actually serious that time. You've known me, what...almost a decade? Have you ever even seen my mom outside of a photo?"

"No. I guess I haven't." Mac sank back down onto her behind and became quiet. "Well, it must at least be nice to just be able to go where ever and not have to think about how you're going to pay for it."

He shrugged. "I guess I never thought about it that way."

"Yeah. You rich people never do." She pulled one of the grape leaves out of the plastic box and stuffed half of it into her mouth.

_You people? Should I be offended?_

Dick uncovered a pint of hummus and placed it next to the pita. "Maybe. Kinda like you people who grew up with normal families don't really spend too much time thinking about how fucked up everybody else's home is either, right?"

She looked at him strangely, as if trying to jog his memory about something he should already know. "Dick, my family isn't normal. At least, not the way you think it is."

_Am I supposed to know what she's talking about? Damn. I must've of been drunk or something when she spilled it. Gotta make sure I don't go past beer #8 when she's around, from now on._

Dick leaned over and snatched the other half of her grape leaf with his mouth from her fingers, causing her to fall backward in surprise with a tiny squeal.

Mac stayed on her back and looked up at the sky, her legs stretching out ahead of her with the pale yellow flowers resting on her chest. With her dark hair, milky skin, and bright blue eyes, he thought fleetingly that she kind of looked like a hipster Snow White secured under her glass coffin.

_How did I never notice how pretty she was before? _

He guessed he only used to notice the hot chicks back in the day, the kind of girls whose loud dress and voices practically demanded that everybody look at them.

_Bitches like Madison. Huh...I can barely even remember what I used to talk about with Madison. Did we even talk at all?_

It was peacefully quiet again, and Dick enjoyed the serene silence that hung between them.

"Can I ask you something?" Mac held her hand out as an invitation to join her.

Dick laid his long body parallel to hers and watched the diaphanous clouds pass by slowly, one running into the next. "What's up?"

"Is this where you brought Cassidy?" she asked, and turned her head so she was facing him.

Dick continued to look Northward. "Yeah..."

Mac swallowed thickly and adjusted the flower behind her ear. "I meant where you scattered his - -"

"I know what you meant," he said, not meaning to cut her off, but not comfortable hearing it said aloud. "That's why I brought you here. I figured we should probably get that whole dead brother thing out of the way before...you know."

She smiled, her gaze continuing to warm the side of his face. "Before what?"

_Before I fucking fall for you._

He turned his head slowly to meet hers and matched her smile. "I don't know, Mackie, but whatever it is, I'm gonna put a smile just like that on your face before you go to bed every night."

"You're a pig," Mac said, with absolutely no malice to her voice. She put one hand onto his chest and started to apply enough pressure to shove him away from her, but then stopped suddenly, leaving her hand just over his heart. "But hey, I'm a vegan. I like all animals."

Just as he leaned in to kiss her, she sat up straight. "Now, where are the rest of those grape leaves? I'm famished!"

* * *

The gate buzzer rang and Alicia almost knocked Veronica over to get to the security monitor.

"What are you, in heat?" Veronica teased her step-mother. "He's just an ordinary guy."

"With a crazy set of abs," Alicia said as she passed by her.

"Logan claims they used to paint them on!" she shouted after her.

Veronica dusted stray lint off of her clothes with her hands and walked toward the door, stopping only once to check her hair in the hallway mirror.

The doorbell rang, and from inside the house, she could see Connor's athletic form leaning up against the doorjam.

She took a deep breath and then opened the door.

_Keep it together, Mars. Nobody wants to hire somebody who projectile vomits on them._

"Hey Connor. Nice to see you again." Veronica smiled sunnily at the actor and extended her hand to him.

_Hello, handsome! Jeez. I feel like I'm in a sunglasses commercial. He's so pretty._

"Veronica Mars..." Connor removed his Oliver Peoples sunglasses and hooked them on the front of his shirt, then grabbed Veronica's hand and pulled her into a firm embrace.

"Uh...okay." She patted his back lightly and waited out the hug.

_He does smell good. I've gotta give him that._

"God, it's been forever, huh?" he said as he walked into the foyer and looked around the house with curiosity. "I've got to say, I was kind of surprised when you gave me this address. Didn't really seem like your scene."

_And you're judging this on your knowledge of me through our vast and storied history together as friends? Why does everybody in Hollywood think they're your best friend?_

"Well...people change." She shrugged and led him into the living room.

"You're not wrong about that." Connor hung his head low and smiled sadly to himself. It was at that moment that Veronica spotted the faint dark circles under his cerulean eyes, and the slight worry lines adorning his forehead that hadn't been there in the past. "Well, if you hustled other people like you hustled me that night at the Echolls' place, I probably wouldn't be surprised if you told me you were living in the Taj Mahal."

"Yeah, I beat your ass pretty badly." She smiled at the memory.

"That you did." Connor flashed his pearly whites at her and she felt her knees go wobbly like a teenager's.

_Oh, get a grip, Veronica! He's just another cheeseball actor._

"So...you're looking good," he said as he sunk into the couch. "Really, you've barely changed at all. You know how many actresses would kill you to learn your secret?"

_I know one person who would LOVE to kill me...not sure it's because of my youthful glow, though._

Veronica's shoulders met her ears and a bashful grin appeared on her face, much to her dismay. "Just eating, sleeping and moving around. You know...just livin' life."

_'Just livin' life'? When did I turn into Dick Casablancas? _

"So..." She cleared her throat and sat on the couch catty-corner to him. "Can I get you a beer or something or shall we just dive right in?"

He ran a hand nervously through his hair. "I don't drink. Anymore, that is. Don't know if you heard about my recent stint in rehab from Logan? Not sure if you still talk to him. I went in under an assumed name and it was kept out of the papers, but a few of our mutual friends know."

"I didn't know." She shook her head. "But hey, good for you for taking care of it. Most people don't have the fortitude."

_Like my mom._

Connor blushed and nodded shyly. "One day at a time, right?"

"Yeah." Veronica flipped open her iPad cover and hit the record function. "You don't mind if I record this session, do you? It's how I make sure not to lose any important details. It will, of course, be confidential, regardless of whether or not I take this case."

He smiled. "I trust you, Veronica. Between the dirt you must've had on Duncan Kane and Logan Echolls alone, you probably could've built a ski lodge on Mount Olympus with the money the gossip rags would have paid for it."

"I am nothing if not discreet. It's part of the job. Consider me like...a priest."

"Can you offer me absolution?" He laughed weakly and nervously combed his hair with his fingers again.

She scooted forward and shot him a compassionate look. "Maybe you'd like to tell me why you're here?"

He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. "Well...about six months ago I started receiving these text messages."

"Do you have them saved? Can I see them?" Veronica asked, holding out her hand for his phone, which he promptly pulled out of his pocket and handed over.

"They're starred, so you can see which ones they are," he said.

Veronica scrolled quickly through the messages until she found what she was looking for. "Is this one of them - 'I know what you did'? Somebody's been watching too many Freddie Prinze, Jr movies."

"They started out that way, just off-handed remarks. I didn't think they meant anything, since I get a lot of weirdos trying to contact me. They were always from a different unlisted number, always in the middle of the night. I mean, they were annoying, but...then things got much worse."

Veronica perched forward in her seat and narrowed her eyes. "How so?"

"They got threatening. They started to name dates and places where I'd been using, who I'd been with. They said they'd tell the media and ruin my career." He swallowed a sob before it could erupt. "I thought they were just idle threats, but then the pictures started showing up, and they were just...they were so bad, Veronica. It makes me sick to look at them, but I do it every single day just to remind myself what I could turn into if I let myself slip."

Veronica moved over to his side of the couch and took his hand. "Lots of celebrities have drug habits, Connor. You're not alone."

"Yeah, but do they get paid 30 million dollars a picture? I have one of the highest Q-ratings out there, people trust me, kids look up to me. My parents would be so ashamed of me. I just, I couldn't let everybody down like that." He took his phone from Veronica's hands and pulled up the series of photos he'd been sent.

She flipped through them, feeling sicker and sicker with each one, then stopped on one particular shot of Connor, sitting in a chair with his legs up on a pool table as a trashy girl injected a shot of heroin into the vein between his toes. She involuntarily winced at the sight.

"They're not pretty, I know, and they would absolutely ruin me. I'm not Lindsay Lohan, people don't expect me to do blow off a hooker's ass at the Chateau, you know?"

"I will take your word for it." She closed the photo application. "How much are they asking for?"

"10 million." Connor rubbed the back of his neck again.

Veronica whistled, impressed. "Well, you can't pay them. Ironically, that's probably the worst way to get rid of them. You'll only become their personal ATM machine."

"But it's not even about the money, I _have_ the money. It's just...I can't have this getting out, and I need you to stop it from happening. I'll do anything." Connor looked deeply into her eyes, his baby blues looking just a bit more faded than they had once been, before bringing his fist down roughly into his own thigh. "I was always so careful. I never did drugs in LA, never with friends...not goods friends, anyway. I just, you know, I've always been under a lot of pressure. It's a little stressful to be supporting a family of five on an actor's salary at age 12." He hung his head, burying his forehead in the hand perched on his leg.

This was a much different Connor than the one she'd met only eight years earlier. No longer, was he the bronzed hunk who spent his afternoons sipping sun tea and debating whether or not he looked convincingly sweaty onscreen. This Connor had bigger fish to fry, and the one he was currently trying to cook was as big and and treacherous as a shark.

"I can't even imagine." She did feel badly for him, to have been used as a commodity from such a young age. He never had a real childhood, he never knew anything different. Of course he was going to crack at some point, it was inevitable.

"Anyway, the only people who could have known about my habit, who could have had proof like this, are the ones who provided the party favors, and believe me, Veronica, these are not the kind of guys you want to cross." He looked up at the ceiling and blew out a stream of air.

_Oh, Conner. You may as well have waived a piece of bacon under my nose._

"What's the address?" she asked, already picking out her disguise in her mind.

His eyes widened. "I don't have it on me right now, but anyway, I don't think you should be going over there alone. A girl like you could get very seriously hurt."

_Nice to know chivalry isn't dead. There are still guys out there who will open doors, pay for dinner, and warn you away from visiting their vicious dealer's drug den by yourself._

Veronica wrapped her arm around his shoulders. "Connor, not sure if you did your research before you called me, but I used to be a Fed. Well, I still _am _a Fed, technically."

His breathing started to speed up rapidly and he pulled out of her grasp. "You're FBI?"

She grabbed his arm and pulled him back down. "Woah. Calm down, it's okay. I didn't tell you this, because I'm arresting you, I told you, so that you would know that I am prepared to do whatever it takes to bring these scumbags down for you."

Connor smiled tentatively at Veronica. "Then you should know, that I am prepared to pay you your weight in gold when you do."

The gate buzzer rang out, breaking Veronica's concentration. "I have no idea who that could be. I'm not expecting anybody."

Alicia peeked her head in from the kitchen and smiled at Connor. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but I just buzzed Duncan and Lilly into the driveway."

Connor became flustered. "Duncan and Lilly? Kane? I thought he...and that she..."

"Hang tight," Veronica told him as she waved Alicia over and pointed to the door. "Would you mind terribly?"

"Of course not." The doorbell rang and Alicia left to answer it. "You two stay there."

The door had barely been opened, when Lilly came streaking into the living room, howling, with her dress half over her head.

Duncan shuffled slowly behind her, looked completely exhausted. "Sorry to just drop in on you like this, but...hey!"

Duncan smiled at Connor, who circled around the back of the couch to give Duncan an aggressive 'bro' hug. "Hey man!"

Veronica grabbed Lilly's arm on one of her passes around the couch and pulled her into a hug. "Where are your manners, Lillian Kane? You just come right in and take your dress off? No hello? Usually my friends say hi to me before getting naked."

_Except for your Uncle Logan._

Lilly let her dress fall back down and smiled a mischievous grin at Veronica. "Hi Auntie Vee".

"Hello, beautiful. Okay, _now_ you can take your dress off and tear my house apart." She patted her on the bottom and sent her on her way.

"You named your daughter Lilly Kane?" Connor asked, everything finally clicking in his head.

Duncan shrugged. "It actually turned out to be quite prescient, because she is almost definitely possessed with my sister's spirit...that, or the spirit of Wyle E. Coyote."

"Come on into the kitchen honey, and I'll get you a hot chocolate." Alicia told Lilly. "That's okay, right? She can have sugar?" she asked Duncan.

He threw his arms up in the air and then collapsed on the couch. "I can't see sugar making this any worse."

Veronica sank down next to Duncan and gave him a friendly snuggle. "Something's different about you..." she said, tugging at his newly brown locks.

"Hard to get touch-ups done in prison, so I figured I'd dye it back. Anyway, now that I'm allowed to be Duncan Kane again, I may as well look like him again, right?" With his hair back to normal, for a split second, Veronica felt like she was back in high school.

Lilly squealed loudly from the kitchen, and it echoed off of the mostly glass walls of the house.

"She's quite...something," Connor said, partially in shock, as he remained in the corner of the room, far from the fray.

Veronica tugged a little too hard on Duncan's hair. "I should really be cursing your name right now for leaving that little hellion here for six months. With no break!"

"Hey, I've had her for seven years with no break, and I was alone. At least you have Logan to help you." Lilly shrieked again and they both bent over laughing. "All the ladies always shriek for Logan..." He let out an exaggerated sigh, pretending to be jealous.

Veronica spied Connor lingering by the edge of the room. "DK, I'm just going to see Connor out. I'll be right back. Help yourself to anything."

She made an effort to rise slowly from the couch and escorted Connor into the foyer. "So, you're going to have to give me your phone, but I can forward all of your calls to the new one. I'll have a clone made later today if you can survive for a few hours without one."

He raised an accusing eyebrow at her. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"What do you mean?" Her eyes shifted nervously.

"You live here with Logan?" Connor asked. "Man. I guess it shouldn't shock me, but it does."

"Why shouldn't it shock you? We were horrible to each other that night," she said.

He smiled. "I've been in enough romantic comedies to know what a love/hate relationship looks like. Just from knowing him, I'm guessing it hasn't been an easy road."

_You have no idea._

She sighed. "The most interesting journeys aren't always the smoothest ones."

Connor pointed at her. "I'm stealing that for my next press junket." He reached into his pocket and pulled out his wallet. "Oh, before I forget, you said you required half up front?" He handed her a check for $250,000 and then his phone.

Veronica's eyes almost fell out of her head. "Woah. Connor, I'm a pro, but I don't finish my jobs by doing 'happy endings' or reach-arounds. This is _way_ too much money."

"It's a fraction of what the blackmailers are asking for." He held his hands up to block her from giving it back. "Besides, I have a feeling you're worth it."

She opened the door for Connor and then closed and locked it immediately behind him.

Veronica hadn't even left the foyer when the doorbell sounded once again. She unlocked all of the hardware and flung the door open. "Forget something, Conner?"

The actor had a strange look on his face. "Uh...you have some kind of package on your front porch. I know it wasn't there when I arrived, so I figured you'd want to know. Maybe Duncan brought it?"

She knelt down by the large, square box wrapped haphazardly in butchers' paper and noticed a card attached to it, inscribed in bright red crayon.

_**To Veronica Mars:**_

_**Playing with your dad was always fun, but you are a blast! **_

Without thinking, Veronica pushed Connor toward his car roughly. "Don't ask questions. Run! Now!"

She opened the door to the house and shut it behind her. "Everybody into the wine cellar now!"

* * *

Logan and Wallace stood outside of 'An Affair to Remember' wedding planners, taking a moment to go over their cover story before going in.

Logan took a deep breath and clapped his hands together a few times. "Before we go in, I just want to remind you – the gay thing – totally your concept."

"...which you ran with, might I add. Renato Baldi and Albin Mougeotte? Where in Sam Hill did you come up with those names?" Wallace asked, animatedly.

"They got us a last minute appointment, did they not?" he asked, an eyebrow raised in challenge.

Wallace raised his hands. "Whatever man, your stalker, your show. I'm just along for the ride." He kicked the door open with his foot.

"I do like a butch man." Logan could hear Wallace's irritated groan from the other side of the glass.

As Logan entered the store, he was almost knocked out by the scent of lavender oil and fresh cut roses. There were expensive-looking, gilded throw pillows on every spare surface, and the walls of the main room were lined in textured, peacock-colored sateen fabric - reminiscent of the kind of décor the court at Versailles might employ.

The sound of a harpsicord accompanied the opening of the front door, and Logan had to stifle a laugh.

_Well, if I ever want to scare Veronica off of the idea of a wedding for good, I now know where to bring her._

By the time the door shut and the last strains of Pachelbel's Canon had faded out, a willowy blonde woman had emerged from the back office, wearing a cream skirt suit. "You must be Renato Baldi and Albin Mougeotte. Please, have a seat." She waved her elegant hand through the air toward a Louis XiV style desk and chairs and gracefully sat herself in the throne-like chair tucked behind it.

"I'm Amanda." She pressed a classically manicured hand to her heart. "It's such a pleasure to meet you both. We've been doing more and more of these types of weddings, and honestly, we couldn't be happier."

"Neither could we. Isn't that right, Sugarpuss?" Logan grinned at Wallace sadistically as he reached for his hand and squeezed tightly.

"Yep. I am just loving this, Babycakes." Wallace responded with a tight smile.

_You have no idea. This is going in my journal._

"Champagne?" she asked, gesturing to the iced down bottle of Veuve Cliquot occupying the silver bucket on far corner of her desk.

"No!" Just as Logan was about to reach for the glass, Wallace slapped his hand hard, then intertwined their fingers once again. "Renato is a sloppy drunk."

_A champagne cock-block? Oh, it is on, Wallace. It. Is. On._

Logan smiled hostilely at his 'mate'. "He's always looking out for me."

"Somebody has to," Wallace seethed back.

"Now, before we go any further, do you two have a date picked out?" Amanda asked, naturally gravitating to Logan for the answer.

"June?" Wallace guessed, startling them both.

"Just June?" she asked, her ornate, feather-clad stylus hovering over the calendar app opened on her tablet.

"It is the month of love, is it not?" Logan piped in, lightly shoulder checking his 'fiance'.

Wallace checked him back slightly harder. "Indeed it is. I meant, um, June 10th."

Logan sighed. "It's the day we first, well...you know."

_I am so going to pay for this later, but it could not be more worth it. _

Wallace gripped his hand so tightly it hurt. "Come on, sugar, other people don't want to hear about _that_."

"It's okay. We get that a lot, believe it or not." Amanda smiled sweetly at the 'couple'. "Now...color scheme?"

Wallace stared at her dumbly. "White?"

"White on white. Very classic. Very 'in' at the moment." She scribbled down their details on the tablet.

_Not white, you idiot. The Eskimos have about 50 words for snow, and spoiled Neptunian brides have about ten times that for the color white._

"Actually, we were thinking more along the lines of...ecru."

Amanda nodded approvingly at Logan. "I _loooove_ it! That's exactly what I was just about to suggest."

_Of course it was._

"Actually, Albin and I were just discussing something on the way over in the car. Somebody at our club got married about a year ago, the people who recommended you, and they had the most lovely save-the-date cards." Logan said, then quickly interrupted what he was sure to be the next question. "Oh, I can't remember their names right now, I am terrible with names, but they were the ones who recommended we come here."

Amanda typed something rapidly into her main computer. "What did they look like?"

"The people?" Wallace asked, fear encroaching his voice.

Logan slapped his arm playfully. "No, silly. The cards. What did the cards look like?"

Wallace perched forward on his chair. "They were really plain, but at the same time, kind of unusual and apparently extremely hard to get. They had lot numbers and were stamped 'made in the USA' on the back. Oh, and they were completely handmade by artists, reconstituted, I believe, from various other types of white paper and linen."

Amanda pointed at him, then used a light, scolding tone. "Ecru."

Wallace shrugged with good-nature at his own ignorance. "Ecru."

"I think I know what you're looking for." She nodded and then pounded into her keyboard in a flurry of activity. "Yes!" She turned the monitor around and pointed to a private online catalog. "The company is called 'Merchants of Venice' and they have an unlisted number. The only way you can get to them is through us. They're extremely exclusive. In fact, I'm not actually authorized to okay the order, since the owner is very choosy as to whom she'll allow to buy from them. We wouldn't be us if we just let anybody have everything they wanted, just because they could afford to buy it. Not everything is about money," she said very seriously.

_That's right. Fuck money. Everything is about power. _

"Well, can you ask your boss?" Wallace prodded. "We want those cards. It's why we came here."

Amanda smiled with the charm of a snake oil salesman. "I have a good feeling about you two. I'll just ring for her and we'll she what she has to say." She leaned over and reached for an antique bell and shook it twice.

Wallace's eyes darted towards Logan's, and then down to his feet.

_Keep it together, man! Five more minutes and we're home free._

"Amanda!" a shrill voice called out from the back office. "I told you not to bother me during the Hermes online sample sale!"

"We have _clients_ who would like to speak with you. You remember, that couple we scheduled an hour ago?" Amanda maintained her manufactured grin and gave the men a conspiratorial wink.

"Ugh! Fine. But if I miss out on that orange Birkin I had my eye on all week, I am _so_ not going to be a happy camper."

"She'll just be a minute," Amanda whispered with a nod, as though they could have possibly missed her last exchange.

The sound of Gucci heels loudly clacking against the Italian marble floor quickly approached them. "Oh. My. God!"

Logan lifted his head and stared into the face of the last woman he ever hoped to run across again in his lifetime.

_No fucking way._

"Sweetie, if you wanted to look me up again, you didn't have to walk in here with some random, pretending to have a gay wedding. I think we both know I have intimate knowledge of your sexuality, Logan, and you are as straight as a 2x4." Madison Sinclair's eyes dropped to his crotch and she haughtily flipped her shiny hair over her left shoulder.

* * *

**A/N – She's baaaack. You know you love to hate her. Hit me up and tell me what you guys thought of the chapter. Connor? Madison? Reviews fuel my muse. **

**PS – For those of you who caught it, Logan stole their fictional names from the main gay couple in La Cage aux Folles/Birds of a Feather.**

**PPS – Thanks to silverlining2k6 for the beta goodness.**


	4. Chapter 4

**No MaDi this time – please forgive me, I just couldn't fit it all in. This chapter was kind of a bitch to write for some reason, but I'm hoping it doesn't reflect in the work. Lemme know.**

**Also want to thank you all again for the overwhelming response to each of my chapters. It's like Christmas every time a review alert pops up. This fic has been averaging the most reviews per chapter (by far) of anything I've ever written. I am beyond grateful for the support and time you take out of your lives to leave a comment. REALLY grateful, so thanks :)**

**As a special way of thanking you, I've made this chapter rated M(mmm). It's in the last segment and you'll know it when you see it, as they say.**

* * *

Previously: Dick took Mac on a picnic date to the spot where he scattered Cassidy's ashes. Veronica got a new client - Connor Larkin - who was being blackmailed with pictures of him doing hardcore drugs. She begged Wallace to take Logan somewhere so she could have the meeting at the house without Logan knowing. Wallace told her he would be playing basketball with Logan and then instead took him to the only place in town where one could find the unique card stock that his stalker's notes were written on. It was a high-end wedding planner, and Wallace & Logan posed as a gay couple who wanted to get married. They were shocked to discover the wedding planning business was owned by Madison Sinclair. Meanwhile, Duncan and Lilly dropped by to bring her suitcases, and as Connor was leaving the beach house, he noticed a suspicious package that appeared to conceal a bomb.

* * *

**CHAPTER 4**

Veronica leaned her head against the cobbled stone wall of the wine cave and closed her eyes. They'd been down there for almost an hour, and she'd had to pee for the majority of that time. She knew from searching the internet that frequent urination was a symptom of early pregnancy, but she didn't quite bargain that 'frequent' would turn out to be every 10-15 minutes.

_It takes me almost that long just to drive into the center of town, longer if there's traffic. Do I need to start buying diapers seven months early?_

She gritted her back teeth together and wondered just how much longer the police dogs would take to investigate the perimeter of her house.

"Is this a Latour?" Duncan asked, squinting to read the faint cursive writing on the label on the open wine bottle in his hand. He was slumped against a shelf of red, and from the looks of it, was drunk enough not to feel the business end of a case of wine poking into his back.

_Must be nice to pass the time drunk. _

It gave her a new understanding as to what made Logan's second favorite past time so appealing to him. Time went by much slower when you're sober, so even if you couldn't drink enough to forget why you were drinking in the first place, you could at least numbly zombie your way through your horrible day.

_Or even longer than that, if you're my mom. _

Veronica's eyes angled toward her ex-boyfriend, though she didn't dare to shift her frame for fear that any sudden movement might cause her to lose control over her straining bladder. "You may as well have asked me the life cycle of a platypus, Duncan. That's how much I _don't _know about wine."

Her mind drifted, as the sounds of Lilly and Alicia playing 'I Spy' on the other side of the room distracted her from her predicament, until the scraping of glass against cement pulled her attention back.

Duncan stared at the bottle he was holding appreciatively before taking another long swig of the Bordeaux. "Logan always did have the best taste in wine." He tipped the bottle in offering toward Veronica. "You sure I can't tempt you?"

"One of us should probably keep our head clear." Veronica indicated Lilly with her chin and gave Duncan a sharp look. "Anyway, I'm kind of at full-capacity as far as liquids are concerned." She inhaled the faint smell of alcohol mixed with aging cork and wished desperately that she could join him.

"And that," he stopped to take another sip of wine, "is one very good reason that I'm glad I'm a guy. The world is my bathroom." He swept his arm grandly in front of him.

"Not my world, Donut, so I'd take it easy on the fluids," she warned sternly.

Though Veronica knew it obviously had something to do with his impending incarceration, she still questioned the motive behind Duncan's impromptu 'happy hour' in her wine cellar. She wasn't sure if this was just some kind of last hurrah before lock-up, or if he was furnishing a personal pity party with the house red. Neither option seemed like a particularly fun afternoon for her to manage.

She watched him open a new bottle with a 'waiter's helper' and take a sip. "I think you're supposed to give that thing time to air out."

"Time?" Duncan smirked and let the lip of the bottle rest against his mouth as his eyes glazed over. "Now, that's something I don't have."

After a moment of calculating how to intervene, Veronica steeled her bladder and leaned forward to swipe the bottle of red from his hands. Duncan's reflexes were dulled from alcohol, so he was easily caught off guard. "I know it sucks, but you have to remind yourself, it's six months. That's less time than it takes to have a baby. Anyway, knowing the choir boy you can be, you'll get out early for good behavior."

"Would you be this calm if it were your precious Logan who was being sent up the river?" he asked, his inflamed blue eyes burning intensely into hers. "Would you begrudge your _puppy_ an afternoon of wallowing?"

_Compassion, Mars. Remember – this is something you're working on._

Veronica fought her natural instinct to bite back and took a deep breath of stale air instead. She held it in her lungs for a count of ten while staring at the bronzed drain in the center of the room, and then let it out slowly. "I'm sorry, Duncan. I should be more understanding. Please..." she waved her hand to imply he should carry on drinking.

"If it were Logan being sent to the big house, he'd at least have somebody to come home to, something to keep him going when he was on the inside." Duncan's tired-looking eyes were rimmed in longing, and Veronica's heart-strings were pulled taut by the weight of his stare.

"You do have somebody." Veronica looked across the cellar at Lilly, who was creating a dizzying path of circles around Alicia, who held up a bottle of white in an exhausted salute to her step-daughter, before taking a dainty sip.

Duncan stretched his feet across the poured concrete floor and brushed his hair forward with his hands. "It's not the same."

Veronica shot him an empathetic half-smile. "What do you want me to say, Duncan?"

He looked over his shoulder at his daughter and then back to Veronica. "I know you love Logan, and that you chose to be with him...intellectually I get it, and I accept it, okay?"

She sighed. "It's not really a choice, Duncan. It's more like a compulsion where he's concerned."

"Fine," he frowned, "but either way, it doesn't matter much, since my feelings for you haven't changed."

_In vino veritas. Sadly._

Veronica wearily smoothed the crease between her brows and wondered briefly if the universe might one day deign to bless her with a few hours of boredom. "I can't – I don't know how to have this talk with you. I loved you once - enough to make me put my entire future on the line to help you out - and I don't regret any of it, but I love Logan now."

"I know that!" he hissed petulantly, before remembering his daughter was playing nearby. "I know that," he said again, this time more quietly, and let his head drop back against the wine rack.

"I still love you, just not in the same way I did." Veronica hung her head low and wished that Duncan had the emotional fortitude to deal with her rejection. He was raised 'the golden child' and had never been denied anything until her. "Not the same way I love him."

_Logan was right about us needing our own word for what we have._

He parted his lips to speak, but she stopped him with a hand. "And before you ask how I know it'll work out with Logan this time, I can tell you honestly that I don't know, but I'll never give up trying. Not anymore." She unconsciously fingered the scar just behind her left ear. "I'd rather be miserable with him than miserable without him. At least by staying with him, I'll have a shot at something more."

Duncan rolled his neck back and forth. "Yeah, well...that second time we got together, I guess I kind of knew. I may not have wanted to acknowledge it, but I knew deep down. The way he used to stare at you like he was in pain, your refusal to look at him at all...even the way you two used to pass the remote to each other had an absurd subtext."

_Understatement._

Veronica threw her head back and laughed. "We were very dramatic, weren't we?"

Duncan flashed her his dimples and then lifted his empty wine bottle from the floor and absentmindedly began to peel the label off. "I wish I knew how to let myself go like he does. He was always so great at throwing his whole heart into things, like loving Lilly, or getting into fist fights, or even..."

"...even torturing me." Veronica sighed at the memory and shook her head. "He really did approach that particular task with gusto."

He pointed to bottle toward her. "And I thought it was because he hated you. How could I have been so blind? It was so obvious in retrospect."

She tutted at him. "Nobody likes a 'Monday Morning Quarterback', Duncan."

"I want to kiss you," Duncan said, seemingly out of the blue.

_Say what?_

Veronica's spine straightened and her mouth dropped open to say something, but the words just wouldn't come to her. "Uh..."

"I know it wouldn't mean anything to you, but it would mean something to me," he said softly, beseeching her with a look. "It's been so long since I've kissed somebody I care about, Veronica. I just want to have a good memory to tide me over during those tough days."

She felt sick again, but this time it wasn't hormonal. "It's not that I wouldn't, Duncan, it's just...you know how Logan gets where you're concerned." She shrugged apologetically at him. "I can't do that to him."

"I'm not trying to steal you away. I know that ship has sailed," he insisted. "I just...please."

_If Logan even knew I was having this conversation right now, he'd probably get so mad he'd end up in the cell next to Duncan's. But still...I can't imagine what Duncan is going through right now. He must be so scared. _

"Let me think about it, okay?" she asked, wondering if she could find a legitimate way of helping Duncan out without lying to Logan.

_Would it really hurt to grant him such a small request? I've done more drunk at a bar with strangers._

He smiled and bobbed his head, satisfied it seemed, with even her mild consideration.

_But Duncan isn't a stranger, is he? _

* * *

Keith reached the door leading down to the wine cellar and glanced down at his canine companion. "If you embarrass me in here, I will never forgive you."

The German Shepard looked up at him, unimpressed.

"Knock! Knock!" he said as he walked the police dog down the stairs.

"DOGGIE!" Lilly noticed them first and zipped across the room to pet the dog.

_God, she reminds me so much of Veronica when she was that age. It's like it was only yesterday that I was giving her horsey-rides on my back and letting her pretend to feed me carrots. Where does the time go?_

Veronica touched her fingertips to her ears. "If I didn't already have inner ear damage..."

"What's his name?" Lilly asked, looking to Keith for permission before petting it.

"_Her_ name is Sandy," he said, then knelt next to Lilly and guided her hand under the dog's nose for a sniff, "and she's safe to pet, as long as you don't do anything to frighten her."

"Like the dog in Little Orphan Annie?" Veronica asked, watching with amusement as her goddaughter played with the animal. "Logan would totally dig that."

A twinge of sadness twisted in Keith's gut for Logan, same as he did every time he remembered just how alone his daughter's boyfriend was in the world. Even when Logan was out of control and verging on dangerous, he could never bring himself to truly hate the boy. After all, what were children if not a product of their parents, and nobody had it worse in the parent department than an Echolls kid.

_I wonder what somebody looking at Veronica would say about me?_

"So, what's the news?" Alicia asked, crossing the room to greet him with a light kiss. "Are we safe to leave?"

"About that..." He scratched his head. "We're taking the evidence to the crime lab to have it analyzed, but there doesn't seem to be any powder or chemical residue on it."

Veronica placed a hand on her hip and her face screwed into a scowl. "You're telling me that was a practical joke? Like somebody trying to get me to yuk it up over Leo's death?"

Keith tipped his head from side to side. "That's one theory."

"And what's your theory?" she asked.

"I think it was a warning."

_A warning to me._

Veronica sighed wearily, and he could tell it came more from a place of guilt over Leo's death than a concern for her own safety. "Can I see the contents of the box?"

He looked at his wife, who smiled encouragingly at him and slipped his arm around his daughter's waist. "Lilly? Do you think you can watch Sandy for me while your Auntie and I step outside?"

Lilly was too busy smothering the dog with kisses to respond to the question.

"I will take that as a yes." Keith guided Veronica up the stairs and toward the front door.

Normally, his daughter outpaced him when they walked together, but today she was severely lagging behind. "Pick up that gait, Agent Mars."

_I should probably stop calling her that, it's only going to make it harder for her to leave the Bureau if she thinks I'll be disappointed. The reality is, I kind of like having her around more than I like bragging about my super-agent daughter. _

"I've been dying to use the bathroom for the past hour, cut me a break." She took baby steps toward the door.

"Then just pee and come back," he suggested.

She bit her bottom lip and shook her head until she finally reached the door. "This is more important. If there are any clues here that could lead us to finding Leo's killer, I need to see them now."

He would have tried to talk her out of waiting for the bathroom, but he knew it was useless. Trying to get his daughter to do something once she had made up her mind was akin to pushing a car down a driveway with the emergency break on.

Veronica stooped next to the box and examined the outside. "I thought that was crayon, but I ran away so fast, I wasn't exactly sure. It's not a typical choice, but crayons are ubiquitous and they would be harder to trace to a manufacturer than magazine clippings." She held her hand out for the tool. "Tongs?"

She looked so professional and all he could think of was how cute it was. She used to spend hours pretending to be a cop when she was little, investigating backyard crimes with her plastic magnifying glass, while wearing one of Lianne's old trenchcoats.

_Hey, at least she has some nice memories from her childhood that don't involve her close friends dying or being burned alive. Score one for normalcy!_

Keith handed her an oversized pair of tweezers from his breast pocket. "The material is felt. What do you think it's from?

Veronica peered intently into the box, gingerly moving the contents around until she selected one specific piece of the hunter-green felt confetti that filled the box. She held it up to the light and narrowed her eyes. "Test this piece."

Keith carefully took the tweezers from Veronica's hand and studied the tiny strip of felt until he was able to notice what she saw. "Blood?"

"Looks that way."

He shook his head, unable to contain his pride at her skill, and placed the material scrap into a plastic evidence bag. Out of the thousands of tiny strips of confetti in there, she managed to find one with biological evidence on it. Though he knew all along that she would one day be able to trump his ability to analyze crime scenes, but he was amazed at how quickly her forensic acumen had surpassed his own. "You and your young eyes. I had young eyes once, and they were magnificent."

"If I had a dime for every time you rhapsodized about one of your formerly young body parts..." Veronica grumbled, laying the pretend complaint on thick.

"Do you know how much a dime could buy you in my day...?" Keith bent over and helped her to her feet slowly to avoid triggering her vertigo.

"Well...if it makes you feel any better, my hearing is older than yours. I might have to have a cochlear implant put in my right ear, because my head was turned this way at the time of the blast," she demonstrated how she had turned back to look at the car, "so it kind of took the brunt of it."

"Oh honey..." Keith's chest hollowed upon hearing his daughter's prognosis and his guilt promptly swelled to fill the empty space. "When will they know for sure?"

"They said to give it six months." She shrugged and gave him a lopsided smile.

Keith leaned forward and placed a kiss on Veronica's forehead. "I'm so sorry, baby."

_This is all my fault. All of it._

Veronica took a deep, fortifying breath and recalibrated her emotions to achieve the laser-like intensity Keith had often noticed her having when she worked. "Did you sweep the house for bugs?"

He nodded. "The outside checked out okay, and I have my guys doing the inside now."

"Dad..." She grabbed his forearm to get his full attention. "Have you had them sweep _your_ house yet? The box may have been on my porch, but your name was on the card too, in case you missed that little tidbit."

"I'm on it." Keith lifted his house keys and shook them in her face.

As Veronica's eyes followed the jagged pieces of metal, an odd look crossed her features. "I – I have to go."

_That wasn't strange. Not at all._

* * *

As Logan sat uncomfortably at an imitation Louis XIV desk in the middle of 'An Affair to Remember' wedding planners, holding Wallace Fennel's hand, he briefly marveled at karma's uncanny knack for making all of his bad situations just a little bit worse.

"Did you ever stop to consider, Madison, that perhaps it was the experience of fucking you that sent me rushing over to the other team?" Logan lifted Wallace's hand and placed a kiss on the back of it, then shot her a self-satisfied smirk.

Wallace gave his friend the side eye, but clearly knew better than to say or do anything. Everybody knew it was safer not to attract the attention of a cornered beast.

Madison crossed her arms over her chest and her mouth tightened into a sour purse. "You can't fool me, Logan Echolls. This little visit was no accident. Get real."

He dropped Wallace's hand as well as all pretensions of why he came. "You're right, Madison. Let's get real."

She smiled triumphantly and pointed to Wallace without taking her eyes off of Logan. "Amanda, can you show that person our floral arrangements in the other room?"

Amanda looked confused, but had apparently worked for the shrew long enough to know not to ask questions at times like these. "Okay, Madison. Mr. Mougeotte, would you follow me, please?"

Wallace looked to Logan for approval, and was waved off.

Both Madison and Logan stared silently at each other until the others had safely left the room.

"So...do you still talk to Dick?"

_Is she seriously trying to make small talk with me right now?_

He approached the conversation cautiously, deciding to grant her a little personal information in order to lull her into dropping her guard. "Yeah."

Madison smiled with insincere friendliness and perched herself on the edge of the desk. "I heard he made, like, a shitload of money selling real estate, is that true?"

She was close enough now to smell her perfume, and it violently triggered in him a sense-memory recall that had him practically white-knuckling the arms of the chair he was sitting in, to keep from vomiting.

A combination of sickeningly sweet tiare flower and Egyptian musk filled the air between them, and if he closed his eyes, he was right back on the floor of the master bathroom in his Aspen home, chin resting unpleasantly on the rim of the porcelain bowl.

Logan fought off the cold sweat that had started to take hold of him and pinned his eyes open slightly wider, then protectively crossed his legs at the ankle and his arms at his waist. "Tell me the metric volume of a shitload exactly and I'll get right back to you with an answer."

She rolled her eyes and characteristically laughed off his mocking tone. "Is it true Duncan Kane is back in town? John's chauffeur told Shelley's maid, who told her that Duncan was back and living at the Kane estate!"

_Yes he's back in town, and no, he still has no interest in you._

"And how would John's chauffeur know that?" Logan asked, truly curious about how the dissemination of personal information occurs.

Madison shrugged irritably. "I don't know? He's like, cousins or something with the Kane's maid. Or whatever, they're all practically related to each other, right?"

_If everybody brown is related, does this mean that all vapid, bottle-blonde bitches are cousins, too?_

He decided it would be more fun to let Madison know just how close her dream was again before telling her it was all pipe. "Yes, Duncan is back."

She leaned forward, her eyes growing with her mounting excitement. "And you've seen him? Is he still hot?"

Logan grinned and slumped a little further down in his chair. "I've always thought so, but then again, I'm a sucker for blue eyes."

"Do you know if he's single?" She batted her eyelashes at him and attempted a well-honed coquettish stance.

_I know he wants to marry my girlfriend..._

The harder Madison tried to be cute, the more repellent he found her. "I know he's going to prison in a day."

It was difficult for him to look at her without his internal rage boiling over, but he knew he had to keep the hostility in check if he was going to get any information out of her.

_She robbed me of five years of my life. Five years with Veronica. Five years of happiness. _

Of course he knew he was ultimately the one responsible for having sex with Madison and breaking Veronica's trust, but he was so far past gone when he'd coupled with her, that he had felt taken advantage of the next morning.

In fact, Logan had always wondered how he had even gotten it up to perform the deed. He'd had a lot of drunken sex in his life, but none before that he had absolutely no recollection of. Actually, if Madison had left before he'd woken up, he's not so sure he would have even known it had happened at all.

_If only she'd had an early flight home. I would have been none the wiser and would never have fucked up the only good thing to happen to me._

Looking at her, grinning at him maniacally like a Cheshire cat, was like staring at the embodiment of all of his personal failings and demons. He had to get out of there before he did something he'd regret. "Now that we're all caught up, I was wondering if you could answer some questions for me?"

"The answer is yes, I will go to dinner with you." Madison threw her head back and giggled, and Logan's stomach responded by turning.

"As unappetizing as that prospect sounds, what I really need to know is who you sold those cards to. The ones we were asking Amanda about."

Madison's demeanor changed as she slipped her professional hat back on. "My client list is confidential."

Logan balked at her false integrity. "Why would your client list be confidential? You don't want potential clients to know who you've done weddings for? Isn't that how you people get your business?"

"Yes, but anybody worth having as a client already knows whose weddings I've done. They don't want just 'anybody' knowing their business," she sneered.

"It's lucky I'm not just 'anybody' then. I'm Logan Echolls."

She gave him the once over with a hungry gaze. "You can say that again."

_I have to get out of here._

Logan took a deep breath and forced himself to remain calm. "Give me the names, Madison."

Madison rose to her feet and looked down on him. "If I give you my client list, what are you going to do for me in return?" She looked him up and down again, like she was examining a derby-winning stud.

"Not that."

She affected a pout. "Was it so bad?"

_It was a toxic fuck that ruined my life._

Logan smiled tightly. "Yes, actually, it was."

She flopped back onto the desk in a huff and crossed her arms again. "Oh whatever, like you know! You could barely remember your own name that night, much less mine."

Logan had blackmailed enough people in his life to know a negotiation situation when he saw one. "What do you want, Madison?"

"I want to know why you need the list?"

He could tell her, but then he'd be showing his hand, and that wasn't something he was comfortable doing. Then again, what did he have to lose? Telling her about the stalker would either make her sorry enough for him to hand over the list or it wouldn't, and on the slight chance that she actually_ was _his stalker, he would be able to see it from her reaction. "Fine. I'm being stalked, okay? It's been going on for a few months now."

"Stalked how?" she asked, looking genuinely concerned.

"Usually in or around my house. She leaves threatening notes for me on my car windshield, on my doorstep, sometimes even inside of my house...and they are always written on this card stock." He held the latest note up to show her.

Madison reached to grab it out of his hands, but he quickly pulled it back. "Jeez Logan. All I wanted to do was look at it!"

Logan leveled a cold stare at her. "You're the only one around here who sells it, so I assume you've already seen it."

She took umbrage at his insinuation and narrowed her eyes. "A stalker, eh? And you came to me first?"

He groaned internally at her histrionics. "Relax, Madison. I don't think it's you."

_I wish it were you. At least then, I'd know I could easily distract my stalker with something shiny._

For some strange reason, she seemed offended by this. "Why not?"

"You don't have the attention span or the follow-through required for this level of stalking."

She seemed strangely placated by that answer, then leapt from her seat in epiphany. "Oh! You know who I'll bet it is? That trailer trash bitch who used to pant pathetically after you and Duncan in high school. Veronica Mars!"

_I should have seen this coming sooner._

Logan laughed out loud at the suggestion, much to Madison's irritation. "Its not Veronica."

"What makes you so sure? She's totally the type to stalk people. She even took pictures of me having sex in the elevator at the Grand for her spy daddy's business!" Madsion smiled with vainglory at her well-made point.

"Just an FYI...unless Veronica was in the elevator with you while you were making the 'beast with two backs', then those pictures were not taken by her, they from the Grand's security cameras. Also, I'm pretty sure she doesn't need to stalk me, because if she wants my attention, all she has to do is roll over and tap my shoulder twice."

Madison was horror stricken at the implication. "You're not actually saying you're still dating her, are you, Logan?"

He placed an index finger to his chin in pensive thought. "Is it still called dating when you live with somebody?"

_I wish I could tape her reaction._

After a few seconds of disbelief followed by disgust, she quickly composed herself and plastered on a fake-looking smile. "How cute. So...you planning on popping the question to her any time soon?" she asked casually, as if she hadn't just accused his girlfriend of being a voyeur and stalker from the wrong side of tracks.

Logan found himself seriously amused by her rapid mood shift. "Shilling for business already, Madison? Well don't bother. Veronica and I figured we'd just have a tailgating party after the wedding ceremony. You know, so all of her trailer trash relatives will feel comfortable."

Madison's musical laugh had an edge to it. "I was just kidding about that Logan! Jeez, you of all people should know how to weather a joke."

He locked eyes with her and grinned. "Well, I did sleep with you."

Before she had a chance to retort, Logan stood up from the chair and slapped his hands together. "As much fun as this trip down memory lane has been, my time is running low. How about you just tell me what you want from me in exchange for that client list...and please God let it be something I can throw money at."

She waggled her eyebrows at him in a predatory way. "Oh no, Logan Echolls, you are far more valuable than money. What I want from you is your friendship."

"Pass. Next!"

She shot him a pleading look and her voice rose an octave as she spoke. "It would just be for one day! Not even a whole day, just a few hours."

Logan expelled a puff of air with exasperation. "Is this for some kind of reality show?" he asked jokingly, and she answered with a sheepish simper. "Oh my God, it IS for a reality show."

Madison flitted to Logan's side and clung to his arm like a leathery vice. "Well, not yet, but hopefully. US weekly is doing a story on celebrity wedding planners and I'm one of the ones being featured. We have a photo shoot,on Monday afternoon, and a producer from Bravo is coming by the set to scout for somebody to build a show around. I just know that if I have my 'close celebrity friend', the _notorious_ Logan Echolls, drop by the shoot and schmooze the producer, it will really clinch the deal for me."

_She's a reptile for sure, but just let her touch your arm until she says yes, then you can push her off of you._

"I wish any part of this shocked me even a little bit."

"Does that mean you'll do it?" she asked hopefully, still clinging to his arm with her dry, too warm hands.

"Absolutely no pictures or mentions of me to the reporter and I'm not talking to anybody from US Weekly. I come in, flirt with the executive from Bravo, make you look like a big shot and then leave." Despite his resolve, Logan just couldn't take the physical contact any longer. His eyes dropped to where she grasped his forearm and she quickly released him. "You give me the list - and I mean the full list, no omitting friends of yours or adding people you hate?"

"You already live with Veronica Mars, so there's no point in that," Madison said, earning Logan's unflinching glare. "Ugh. Yes, Logan. Fine. I will even bring it to the shoot, okay?"

He noticed Wallace's presence on the perimeter of the room and wondered how long he'd been standing there, then lowered the volume of his voice to a harsh whisper. "Text me the address and time, and if you tell a soul about this, I will make it my life's mission to drive you, and this Marie Antoinette's wet dream of a business into the sea. I mean it. No one. I don't even want you talking about it in your sleep."

"However will you know what I talk about in my sleep, Lo?" Madison tried to slither back onto his arm, but his cold regard repelled her before she could latch on. "Come on. Why can't anybody find out?"

Logan roughly shook her hands off of him. "Do we have a deal or not?"

"Fine!" she spat. "You know, most guys would be screaming from the rooftops if I agreed to be seen with them in public, but whatever...clearly your tastes trend more towards the criminal class."

_Thank God. Now, I can finally get out of this hellhole and breathe freely again._

Wallace approached the duo, concern written plainly across his features.

"Well, my father was a murderer," he reminded her, almost as a warning. He nodded at Wallace and began to leave, but then stopped himself short and turned back. "Oh, and just for the sake of full disclosure, Madison, Veronica's not a criminal, she's an FBI agent."

"So?"

"You know, it's amazing how many broken laws you can find to arrest somebody for, if you know where to look, that is," he mused aloud, before focusing on her one last time. "My girl is quite the worker bee."

Madison seemed unnerved and a tad livid at the same time. "See you Monday?" she asked weakly.

_Unfortunately._

Logan gave her a half-assed salute and flung the front door of the store open, activating the harpsichord music, which continued to tinkle through the glass as they took to the sidewalk.

* * *

Veronica wiped the tears from her face with the back of her hand and leaned against the back wall of her walk-in closet. She had spent the last 15 minutes sitting on the floor trying to work up the nerve to take Leo's jacket off of the hanger, and now that she finally had, she had been reduced to a quivering mess.

She buried her face in the rough, beige material and inhaled the faint smell that lingered there. She was hoping it might smell like her friend, but anything left of Leo had been long overcome by the smell of smoke, which had seeped its way into every fiber, and invaded all of the spaces in between.

_I'm so sorry, Leo. I keep fucking up and other people keep paying for my mistakes. It should have been me._

The thing was, she didn't know what she had done to incur this type of punishment. She had to have pissed somebody off enough in order for them to trouble themselves this much with killing her.

Veronica assumed it wasn't a perp from an old FBI case, because most of the ones she'd help bust were safely in jail, and the ones who weren't were being closely watched by the Bureau so they could pounce on their slightest indiscretion. No, she knew in the marrow of her bones that the person trying to kill her had to be linked to her past in Neptune.

_Will I ever stop paying for my childhood sins?_

She slipped her arms into Leo's jacket and pulled it over her small shoulders, letting the clothing fold her in it's too-big embrace. If she closed her eyes, she could pretend as though Leo was there, hugging her in the flesh.

_I promise I will find out who did this to you. You may be gone, but I'm going to scratch your back like I always promised I would._

Veronica dug her hand into the right pocket of the jacket until she felt the small piece of hard metal that was hidden there. She took the key and press it firmly into the center of her palm, squeezing just enough to feel its imprint marring her skin.

"Only you would choose to sit in the closet of a house that has 12 rooms."

She looked up with a start into the face of her boyfriend, her pulse racing at being caught wallowing in such a vulnerable state. The embarrassment was almost crippling.

Before she could respond, Logan dropped down next to her and leaned against the wall. This was uncharted territory for her, sharing her grief and her fears. In the past, she'd had her own space to deal with her problems, a place where she could escape prying eyes and crumble anonymously, free of the judgment of others.

_I don't know what to even do with my hands._

As if answering an unasked question, Logan took her hand in his and brought it to his cheek. She watched him helplessly, as he cradled it against his face, eyes closed in some sort of meditation on their love.

"Everybody downstairs is gone. You don't have to say anything, Ronnie. We can just sit here."

Her heart beat heavily in her throat as she continued her audience with him. She wanted to give Logan everything, or at least share the parts of herself that were most important to him. But how could she share them with him when she couldn't even tap into them herself?

Logan leaned over and tenderly kissed Veronica's forehead. She sank into the kiss, and he wrapped his arms around her tightly. "There is literally nothing you could do or say that I would judge you for, okay? You're safe here, you know that, right?"

His continued, unearned faith in her was like a shot to the gut.

Veronica nodded into his chest and rested her cheek on his sternum, swallowing hard to push down the guilt she harbored from never extending this same deal to him. She had always judged him, he was never safe from excommunication.

Fresh tears pricked her eyes, but no amount of crying would ever wash away her multitude of sins. "I'm so sorry."

He loosened his grip around her and peered down at her with confusion. "What are you sorry for, Bobcat?"

She shook her head and didn't answer.

"You don't have to say anything right now, but - -"

"I do, Logan! I do have to say something. The fact that I've conditioned you to accept so little from me, says more about my selfishness than your graciousness, you know?"

_And don't get me started on the unfair pressure I've put on you to live up to my impossible standards..._

Logan dropped his arms to his sides and stared angrily at her. "I'm not going to sit here, if all you're going to do is beat yourself up. I've always been more into light S&M than self-flagellation."

_Where did all of this faith in her come from? She'd never given any to him._

"Why do you love me, Logan?"

"Is this one of those traps where I say it's because you're smart and funny and then you accuse me of thinking you're ugly?" he asked, a playful smirk on his lips.

Veronica chuckled at the truth in that and decided to try again. She had to know. "No. I know you think I'm pretty, smart and funny, but those are qualities lots of women have."

"Not as many as you'd think." He wiped a tear away that had been clinging to her cheek. "I don't know, Veronica, maybe because you understand me and I understand you, which is pretty amazing considering we're probably the two most complicated people in a 500 mile radius."

"Yeah. I guess that's probably true."

Logan tucked a stray hair behind one of her ears. "I suppose I just find you endlessly fascinating. I always have, even when you pretended to be so demure."

_Pretended? The nerve of him..._

She shoulder checked him lightly. "Hey! I _was_ demure."

"Keep telling yourself that," he said drolly, then got serious again. "Look, I've pushed away a lot of people in my life, and you're the only one who's ever pushed back. You proved you were stronger than me and everything I that threw at you. Then you showed me you were even stronger than that, by somehow finding the compassion to help me when anybody else would have and _should_ have slammed the door in my face. After the horrible way I treated you, you were still the only one who cared when my mom disappeared. That kind of devotion means a lot to a guy like me."

Veronica had never seen herself that way, through his eyes, and the view was breathtaking.

_Whenever I run or push him away, he always comes back. Maybe he's just trying to do for me what I did for him after Lilly died? _

They each had their own personal crises, but they fell apart at different times. Could it be that their past problems could mostly be boiled down to just a case of bad timing?

She sniffed a few more times and then tilted her head up to smile at him. "Thanks. I really needed that."

"Happy to oblige." Logan tilted her chin up and kissed her softly.

Veronica dug both hands into his hair and deepened the kiss, pulling him toward her greedily. Things heated up rapidly, and what had started out as sweet, soon turned frantic.

Logan tugged at Leo's jacket, and Veronica let it slide down the back of her arms onto the floor, then lifted her own shirt off over her head.

He followed suit and shed his own, then immediately found the front enclosure of her bra and released it with a quiet pop, pulling the straps down off of her shoulders until the bra joined the rest of the discarded clothes on the floor.

Logan traced her breasts with his index finger and then palmed them gingerly, obviously remembering her discomfort from the day before.

"We're really doing this?" he asked through Veronica's demanding kisses.

"Are you really finding my intentions vague?" She laughed as she pushed his back onto the floor of the closet and straddled his lap.

His fingers found the button on her jeans and opened it easily, then pulled her zipper down in one movement. "It's been a while since we've done this. Not since - -"

She pressed her mouth to his, insistently kissing him over and over again to stop him from talking.

_Please don't bring up the hospital right now, Logan! Hospitals do not = sexy!_

"Less talking, more sexing." She released the fly on his jeans, exposing his light brown 'happy trail' and her hunger for him snowballed.

Veronica rolled off of Logan and shimmied out of her jeans while he pulled his own off in echo, leaving them both in just underwear.

"I'm forbidding you from wearing jeans from now on. It takes too long for me to get them off of you. It's mini-skirts all the way!" he said, pulling her underneath him.

Using a self-defense move, she flipped him onto his back and straddled his lap again, then grabbed both of his arms and pinned them behind his head, much to his amusement. "What about you? It's not exactly a walk in the park for me to slide my hands into your $200 pair of Levi's."

Logan grimaced. "Levi's? Bobcat, please. They're '7 For All Mankind' and they actually cost me $300."

"Of course they did." She laughed as she kissed her way down the valley of his chest until she reached his stomach. She loved his entire body, but the sight of his bare stomach with boxers slung low on his hips was always enough by itself to get her going. "Anyway...I think you should just walk around naked. Easier access."

Veronica's fingers ghosted the outline of his erection before tugging his boxers halfway down his legs to free it from its confinement. She wrapped her fingers around him and felt him twitch in her hand, sending a shock of desire coursing through her body. She wanted to make him feel good, wanted to show him how much he meant to her. She wanted to take charge and reduce him to a quivering pile of jelly.

She looked into his eyes and then slowly enveloped him with her mouth, causing a hiss of air to escape his lips as his head hit the carpet.

His eyes rolled into the back of his head. "Veronica...God..."

_I love it when I can catch him off guard._

Her tongue dragged slowly up his length, then she rapidly plunged her mouth down over him again, eliciting a loud groan.

Logan grabbed the back of her hair and gave it a short tug, delicately pulling her face away from his body.

"What's wrong?" Veronica asked, a crease forming between her brows. A hundred years could pass and she'd always worry that she wasn't doing it right, or not as well as the others. She knew it was stupid, he always came, but the insecurity persisted. "Was it ba- -?"

"No. The problem was that it was too good, okay? I'm not going to last if you keep doing that. It's been too long." He pushed her onto her back and inched her underwear down her legs, leaving a hail of tiny kisses in its wake.

He nudged his nose in-between her legs and she parted them for him. "I love the way you taste," he said as he dipped his tongue inside of her.

Veronica gasped as he continued to alternating between sucking and stroking her with his tongue. He reached with both hands beneath her ass to pull her closer, and a familiar heat began to pool in her belly. "Oh...that's..."

_Fucking amazing? The best I've ever had? You can't even complete a sentence anymore, Veronica. So much for taking charge and turning him into jelly. The only person quivering here is..._

"Fuck!" she shouted as the first wave of her orgasm hit, knocking the wind out of her. He held her as she shook, and she could detect the presence of awe underneath his gloating leer.

"I will never get tired of seeing you do that."

Veronica blushed and covered her face with her hands. "Sometimes, I forget how good you are at that."

Logan pulled her hands away from her face. "Then it's _definitely_ been too long. Seriously, you may as well sleep naked tonight because I don't plan on leaving you alone."

"Who said I wanted to be left alone?"

He kissed her urgently and she wrapped her legs around his waist.

"You are going to be begging me to let you go to sleep," he said, just before pushing himself inside of her. "Begging." Both of them groaned on contact, and his strokes picked up in speed.

For the first time since she'd been back in Neptune, she could visualize a future with him. She'd always wanted and hoped for one, sometimes desperately, but she never really believed it was truly possible until that moment.

As he filled her insides, she felt overcome by the heft of her emotion. She wasn't sure if it was the pregnancy hormones, the explosion, or just being with him like that, but whatever the reason, it was overwhelming her and bringing with it a new clarity.

"I love you, Logan."

_More than you'll ever know._

He grinned boyishly at her as he continued to drive into her body at an increasingly erratic pace, pushing them both further and further toward the precipice of a steep cliff.

She heard herself moan loudly and a flash of white passed behind her eyes, as she was shoved hopelessly over the edge with him following closely behind her.

* * *

**A/N - Let me know what you think! Please review :)**

**PS – special thanks to silverlining2k6**

**PPS - is anybody going to the NYC VM movie premiere? (Yes, I am a crazy person who paid hundreds of dollars for 1 ticket) We should meet up!**


	5. Chapter 5

**Really psyched you liked the Madison stuff, because it's probably the most fun I've had writing this fic. So far, only one of you has successfully unraveled the whole ball of wax when it comes to Logan's stalker. Many have gotten part of it right, but only one clever reader guessed the whole shebang.**

**FYI – In this chapter, the restaurant I based 'La Grande Illusion' on is called 41 Degrees and it's in Barcelona – a Ferran Adria joint, for you foodies out there who care. And yes, it's amazing. If I could post pictures on here, I totally would.**

* * *

Previously: Duncan asked Veronica for a goodbye kiss to get him through his long nights in prison and she told him she'd consider it. Keith and Veronica investigated the mysterious package on her porch and determined that the tiny bomb package was a ploy just meant to scare her. It was filled with green shredded felt that was tinged with blood, and they sent it to the lab to be analyzed. Madison blackmailed Logan into attending a photo shoot with her, hoping his celebrity might impress Bravo show producers enough to give Madison her own reality show. In exchange, she promised to give him the list of her clients who purchased the specialized card stock. Veronica decided to investigate the key in Leo's pocket, and then had an emotional breakdown dealing with her guilt. Logan comforted her and they finally made love for the first time since she'd gotten home from the hospital.

* * *

**CHAPTER 5**

Logan hovered over Veronica on their bed, sweaty and spent from their afternoon of catch-up sex. Though he was no longer a feral teenager incapable of keeping it in his pants, it wasn't the easiest task in the world to sleep next to the person he loved without having free reign to touch her at will.

The two weeks since she had come home from the hospital passed by sluggishly, and though he would never have pressured Veronica to do anything before she felt ready, he was relieved she turned out to be a fast healer. Beyond relieved.

Logan lowered his mouth to her neck and nipped playfully at her pulse point.

"We should have done that sooner," Veronica said, stretching her arms over her head in satisfaction, before casually draping them around his neck. "A lot sooner."

He brushed a few strands of her hair out of the way and continued to nibble on her flushed skin. "With your vertigo, and the sheer velocity in which I've been knocking you into the headboard for the past few hours, you would never have been able to hack it. We would've had to put you in sea bands - wrists and ankles - I would've been holding your hair back all night."

"Worth it." Veronica dodged Logan's latest love bite and nipped at his collar bone. "Especially when you did that one thing with your hand that had me doing that high-pitched shrieking noise. I'm not embarrassed at all."

_Nor should you be. It was the crowning achievement of my sexual career._

She bit him again and he swatted her away. "Well, good. Get your screaming out now, because for the next six months you're going to have to come like a church mouse."

"You've gotten off a church mouse before, Logan?" She wrapped her legs around him to keep him from escaping her assault and tried to sink her teeth into his throat again but missed, only to catch his shoulder.

"Okay, uncle! I'm actually crying uncle. I'm convinced you're trying to kill me." He ran his hands up and down her smooth thighs and found himself getting turned on again despite his best intentions. "If you make me keep up this pace all night, I'm going to require IV fluids."

"I've got some fluids for you..." she mumbled in sotto voice and then lunged for his neck again.

_Oh my God, I've turned her into a monster – a hot, sex-crazed monster. Why am I complaining again?_

Logan chuckled even harder and pinned her shoulders to the mattress. "What has gotten into you?" he asked, but immediately covered her mouth with the palm of his hand before she could answer. "And spare me the 'that's what she said' humor, please."

Veronica shook with laughter beneath him.

He gave her warning look and then slowly removed his fingers from her lips. Veronica pouted her swollen bottom lip, and he traced it lightly with his finger. "I love you."

She smiled and puckered up for another kiss, which he fast obliged. "I love you too. But seriously...a church mouse? You don't even go to church."

The mirth behind her eyes made him feel weak, just as weak as when he discovered her crying on the floor of their closet. Everything she did and said lately made him falter, every look made him crumble inside, and the weakest thing about it was that he didn't mind.

_She also makes me strong, so there's that...not that I wouldn't still be here anyway._

Despite all of their recent brushes with danger and injury, Logan had never been happier. He knew from experience though, that true happiness was as fleeting as finding the perfect wave. Even with pristine conditions and aligning stars, that mystical wave wouldn't necessarily come. Some surfers could be out in the water their entire lives and never get to experience that perfect wave, but the lucky ones who did, knew to pull themselves up on that board and ride it out until it breaks.

Veronica ran her fingers across his forehead. "What's going in in here? I think this is the longest you've gone without speaking in your entire life."

Logan settled on his side next to her and leaned on his elbow. "I was thinking about the perfect wave. How about you?"

"Baked zitti."

"Sounds about right."

"Hey," she said, feigning offense, "You wants ta play the game, you've gots ta feed the machine."

"I sure play a mean pinball," he whispered as he buried his face just under her ear. "My balls really know how to pack a punch."

"Classy." She groaned and tried to push him away, but he tightened his grip. He could feel her shiver from the contact, and then fake a loud, put-upon sigh. "That, they do."

She was beautiful, everything about her - her overall strength, her fragile core, and every grey area in between them. He knew she wasn't perfect, but it only made him want her more, because if she were perfect, she wouldn't 'get' him. She was the only one who ever really did.

_The sun is round, and Veronica Mars is the only one for me._

"I want to marry you," he blurted out spontaneously.

_God dammit! Get control over yourself, man. You may as well pack her bags for her at this rate._

Veronica's lips parted slightly and all of the color quickly drained from her face.

Logan held his breath, waiting for a response that he knew deep down would never come. It was worth a shot though, s_he_ was worth it, even though he may as well have handed her a loaded weapon and helped her aim it directly at his chest.

She forced a smile that was definitely more pained than joyful and his heart began to race. He passingly worried that she might try to leave now, and the idea of it made him ill. "You only think you do, because of the sex endorphins. I probably shouldn't have pushed you into that 3rd go-around. By my calculations, I'm about one more orgasm away from getting you to fork over the deed to this house."

_Will she ever take this seriously?_

He reached out and stroked her cheekbone with his thumb. "You can have the deed, as long as I can live here with you. I just want us to spend the rest of our lives together."

Her eyes raked over his face slowly and then turned away. "I want that too."

Logan turned her face back to him by her chin. "But, I meant as husband and wife."

She sharply inhaled and all other sound in the room was drowned out by the thrumming of his heartbeat in his ears.

"Come on. All I do is nag, nag, nag. I'm a mediocre cook, I never do laundry, I leave the caps off of everything...I'm a terrible roommate..."

_Just fucking go all in. The die is cast and you already put it out there. May as well own it before you wreck it._

"I don't care about any of that, Veronica. I love you and I want to marry you. I've wanted to marry you since I was 19," he said, revealing a little more than he'd intended to.

"19?" Veronica sat up and braced herself on either side. Her head shook absently as she processed everything he'd said. "Logan, you know how I...I mean...aren't you happy with the way things are right now?"

He sat up to face her. "I'd be a lot happier if we were married." He had her eye contact now, and locked onto it like a homing device. "You said you wanted to be with me forever."

_Please don't take it back. Don't tell me you only said it because you got swept up in the moment._

Her chest started to heave from the weight of their discussion. "I – I do, you know I do. And I will. I guess I just don't understand why you need a piece of paper promising all of that when it means only as much as the words coming out of my mouth. I don't get why it's so important to you."

Logan flopped onto his back and released a shuddering breath. "I don't know either, Veronica, but it is." He shrugged. "It just is."

_I never should have opened my mouth. Now she's probably going to leave me. _

She gingerly placed her hand on his chest, almost as if she were afraid to touch him now. "Since when?"

"Don't let's ask for the moon. We have the stars." He turned her hand over and interlaced their fingers together, then reached his free arm into the top drawer of his night table and produced a small, black, velvet box. "Bette Davis in 'Now Voyager'." He placed the box into the center of her upturned palm.

Veronica audibly gasped, staring in fear and curiosity at the ring box as if it were an alien artifact.

"Aren't you going to open it?" Logan looked at her hopefully.

"When did you do this?" she accused more than asked. The box had yet to be opened.

"The day after the explosion."

Her eyes opened wider. "Logan, that was two weeks ago!"

Logan brought the back of her hand up to his cheek. "When I first heard the blast, I thought I'd lost you...and I knew if that were true that I would probably be joining you."

"Don't even joke about that." Her expression was cross.

_It's no joke and she knows it. Losing her would be the proverbial straw that broke the camel's back. There's no way I'd be able to come back from losing Lilly, my mom and then her. No human being could survive that trifecta of grief._

"The doctors wouldn't talk to me because I wasn't family, and it was so frustrating." A pitiful laugh slipped out and he anxiously brushed his fingers through his hair. "You're the only family I really have...except for that little detail that you're really not."

Veronica's face softened, and she ran the pad of her thumb back and forth over the velvet of the box lid. "That's bullshit. Of course I am."

He shook his head. "You can say it all you want, Veronica, but that doesn't make it true. We're nothing to each other, you can walk away at any time."

"I can do that anyway! A ring doesn't change that." She gripped the box harder in her frustration.

"A ring means that I'm the one who gets to sit next to you in the hospital, holding your hand, when you're in pain and you need somebody." He averted his eyes, feeling too raw and open to expose himself to her now. "Unless, that's not what you want."

_Please say it's what you want._

Veronica's eyes welled with unshed tears. "Why are you asking me that? You know how I feel about you, Logan. I'm trying here. I'm really trying, but you just..." She pressed her fist, closed tightly over the ring to her mouth and tried to regain control.

His eyes fell on the box crushed in her hand. "You're not even going to open it?"

She pulled her bottom lip into her mouth and stared at the box in her hand, as if waiting for something magical to happen to it.

He pressed his lips tightly together and tried to keep himself from falling apart from disappointment. After all, it wasn't exactly a surprise, Veronica had always been opposed to the institution of marriage. He wasn't sure what made him think he could convince her otherwise. "Look, don't sweat it. I knew you'd say no, I wasn't expecting - -."

"I never said no," she responded quietly.

_Did I just hear that?_

Logan's spine snapped to attention and his chest seized up. "You're saying yes?"

Veronica's gaze was still fixed on the unopened box. "I'm not saying no."

He sighed his relief and cupped her face with his hands. "Should I interpret that as a maybe?"

_Her lack of eye contact is not exactly encouraging. _

"You know how I feel about marriage."

"But...?"

Veronica took a deep breath before answering. "But, I know how important this is to you, so I'll keep it in mind, just as I would hope that you might keep some things in mind – things that you've said you don't want to do - that are important to me."

_Am I supposed to know what she's referring to?_

Logan laughed partly at her political answer, but mostly at himself for thinking he could ever change her. Her love had changed him once upon a time, but that dynamic seemed to only flow in one direction. "You won't even look at the ring."

Her eyes shut tightly for a moment. "If I don't look at it, I can pretend this isn't happening."

"Jesus, Veronica. You've really turned avoidance into an art form. Brava." Logan snatched the ring box out of her hands and shoved it angrily into his top drawer, then stormed off into the bathroom and slammed the door shut behind him.

Then it hit him. She wasn't the one who left this time, he did. Five years ago she would have left a scorched trail on the floor leading up to the front door.

He was so busy being angry at her for not changing, he hadn't even noticed the little ways in which she already had.

_I'm an idiot. _

* * *

It was the opening week for La Grande Illusion, Neptune's first molecular gastronomy restaurant, and the place was busier than an anthill at lunchtime.

Sitting at one of the 16 most coveted tables in the city, Mac smiled rigidly at a well-dressed Alexei Petrenko, whose spirits were currently soaring as high as his bank account. Save for the faint greenish glow from the illuminated bar and a spotlight in the center of each table, the room was nearly completely dark.

A waiter in a black chef's jacket appeared out of the ether, with a giant jar of something resembling olives. He very carefully ladled one olive each onto a deep soup spoon and placed the spoons on miniature bread plates for them. "Put the entire olive in your mouth at once, do not bite it," he instructed cryptically, before taking off again for the kitchen.

Mac shot Alexei a troubled look, and then gazed quizzically at the seemingly simple creation in front of her. "It just looks like an olive."

He raised an eyebrow dramatically. "All is not what it seems, I think."

The both lifted their spoons and took the amuse-bouche into their mouths in one bite.

The olive, which had appeared solid and whole, shockingly exploded on contact into a briny, liquefied essence.

_Holy crap!_

"That was amazing! I was not expecting that at all." The rush she felt from experiencing something so unusual practically left her breathless. "How was that ever solid?"

"With enough money and skill, you can trick people into believing anything. A true magician can even make you doubt your own mind."

"Yeah, well, mission accomplished." She saluted her boss – her sapphire bracelet shimmering with the motion of her hand - then giggled with the excitement of her anticipation.

"Would you like another glass of champagne?" Alexei smiled at her in a way that made her head feel hot.

_You've had enough to drink. Step away from the champagne flute._

"Okay." She shrugged and released the stem of her near empty glass, knowing full well it was the wrong call.

Not usually a big drinker, this had to be the first time in her life she'd popped the cork on two different bottles of champagne in one day, much less with two different men. The bottle she'd shared with Dick earlier was a high end Chandon from the Napa Valley in California that they'd drunk it out of mason jars. The bottle she'd corked that evening with Petrenko was French though, and the drinking vessels Riedel crystal. They were both equally delicious experiences, even if they couldn't be more different. It only proved to her further her theory that she was an egalitarian at heart in all matters, even booze.

Without removing his eyes from her face, Alexei motioned to the waitstaff, and a pleb showed up immediately to top them off. "We don't want to see the bottom of our glasses." He winked at the busboy and covertly slipped him a $50 bill.

Slightly tipsy, Mac lifted her glass and nodded in her host's direction before taking another sip. "There's an art to this being rich thing, and you, sir, have got it down in spades."

"Would you like to know my secret?" he whispered, coyly leaning into the center of the table.

She considered his offer. "You know, I'm not such a fan of secrets. That would be more of my friend, Veronica's territory. She loves them so much she'd probably dump her boyfriend and marry a secret if she could. "

_You remember Veronica, don't you Alexei? Small, blonde, lived in the basement of your restaurant for almost a week against her will?_

"Veronica Mars?"

Mac aimed the lip of her glass at Alexei. "When you're in Neptune, there's really only one Veronica anybody's ever talking about. In fact, I'm fairly certain the social security office was forced to retire the name after the last time she blew out of town."

"She sounds like quite a force of nature," he said with appreciation.

"That's one way of putting it."

"And what's another?"

Mac observed Alexei cautiously, and marveled at his deft poker face. Of course he knew who Veronica Mars was, he had lured her out into the open by trying to have Logan killed and then kidnapped her when she came up for air.

She tapped out a rhythm with her finger and then took another sip. "Vigilante."

_If Alexei was willing to massacre Logan and a random escort just to get Veronica to surface, what would he be willing to do to Dick to keep me in line, when he knows I can ruin his company with just a few keystrokes?_

She shuddered at the possibilities. It was difficult for her to rectify the erudite, charming man sitting across from her with the icy killer who barely spared a thought for the collateral damage he caused. His own daughter had been lost amongst the rubble, and he hadn't given it a second thought. He was either a master at compartmentalization or a sociopath of the highest order, and neither seemed all that comforting to her.

"Actually Alexei, I would love to know your secret." Mac leaned her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her closed fists. Her head was slightly foggy, but she was still just on the right side of sober.

A waiter appeared out of nowhere, carrying a silver tray, laden with two large lowball glasses, each with one giant ice cube sitting inside. "An aperitif. Gin and Tonic with apple air."

He placed one glass in front of each of them and poured two ounces of gin in each, then using a portable smoke generator piped apple-scented air into each glass for 90 seconds. Finally, he tipped a small bottle of tonic into each glass, which activated something in the ice, revealing a word etched into the cube.

_What the-?_

Alexei chuckled at the sight gag. "Fabulous. 'La Grande Illusion' indeed."

Mac leaned over and read the name of the restaurant floating in her date's drink, then down at her own, and noticed an entirely different word written there.

_'Bathroom'? Not exactly an image most chefs would try to conjure up in a formal dining room._

Her eyes cased the room for anything out of the ordinary, but nothing seemed out of place.

"To you, my darling. You've proven yourself to be worth every penny it took to bring you into the fold." Alexei clinked his glass against hers and inhaled the aroma of apples deeply before taking his first sip.

She lifted the drink to her lips, but the word 'bathroom' continued to stare up at her, giving her pause. Was it a joke? She wondered what would possess somebody to etch the word bathroom into an ice cube? It was too bizarre and unappetizing to be deliberate, yet too crass to be unintentional.

_Maybe it was deliberate, just not by the chef?_

Mac surveyed the room once more, and just as she was about to give up her quest, an object in the corner of the room caught her eye - a black fedora. Only one person she knew ever wore those.

_Somebody's sitting on a huge pair of balls following me here. We agreed never to do this in public. My ass is on the line here, not his. I'm not going to be of much use to him if he gets me killed._

She tipped the glass back and drained it completely, letting the cool apple-scented drink slip down her throat, then looked into the glass again.

_It still says 'bathroom'...I guess I suddenly need to pee, then._

Mac picked her head up again to check on the interloper and found that he had vanished, but just as the busboy approached the table to whisk away her empty glass, she saw a flash of a black hat against closely-cropped hair as it headed toward the rest rooms.

"If you'd please excuse me..." Mac pushed her chair away from the table and rose onto a pair of weedy legs. "I need to use the, um, you know..."

"Of course." Alexei stood and she gave him a crooked smile before taking her cue.

_This had better be quick, because if I get caught, Alexei's next course is going to be me._

* * *

"So, are you two ready to have a kid?" Veronica looked up at her father, who was standing in the middle her kitchen with his arms akimbo.

_He knows? I'm going to kill that Alicia!_

"What?" A flustered Veronica sat across the kitchen table from her father and opened up the photo app on her iPad. "Am I...what?"

Keith stifled a smile. "I'm going to take that as a no."

Logan unscrewed the top of the juice carton and poured out three glasses of orange juice. "That's where you're wrong, Keith. I've been busy all morning rounding up all pointy objects and flammable liquids, as well as locking away Veronica's extensive German porn collection."

_Aha. He's talking about Lilly, you guilty, guilty woman. _

"So, that's why we have no readily available scheisse movies lying around! I thought maybe you'd loaned them to Wallace again without asking me." Veronica covertly scrolled through the Connor Larkin photos, scrutinizing each one carefully for clues.

Keith blanched. "You two might want to practice toning down the X-rated repartee before Lilly arrives later today."

"Sorry pops, you know I only work 'blue'. I'm like, the Lenny Bruce of rapid-fire banter." She pretended to shoot him with double gun hands.

Keith sighed and crossed his arms protectively over his chest. "Be that as it may, I doubt Duncan would appreciate coming home to find that you've turned his sweet, angelic daughter into Lindsay Lohan."

"We're still talking about Lilly, right?" Logan asked as he closed the fridge door.

Keith stared at him, unimpressed.

"Well, you _did _say angelic..." He lifted the full glasses and carried them slowly to the table, then dropped a small kiss on the top of Veronica's head. "What are you looking at?"

She held the iPad screen to her chest. "I'm just looking for a good wedding planner. Know of any?"

_Okay, that was a little mean, but he was a little mean for storming out of our room last night after ambushing me with a marriage proposal when I was still out of breath from having sex. Alright, he did apologize and I do forgive him, but I'm not ready to forget it just yet. He's never made me cry before on purpose. Besides, it's not like it's news that I don't want to get married. My convictions are not going to suddenly change just because he buys me something shiny._

Logan's face dropped and he quickly took his seat next to her.

"I'm sorry," she whispered sheepishly.

"When are you going to let that go?" He whispered back with a frown.

Veronica lowered the screen again and flipped through the photos. "Well, I am known for my innate ability to turn the other cheek..."

"So...next month?"

Her lips cocked upward, but her eyes remained firmly on the photos. "Sounds about right."

"No idea what happened, but if it wasn't too egregious, it'll probably take about six weeks for her to stop mentioning it." Her father barely looked up from his juice. Apparently, Logan's and her playful bickering had finally become predictable to him.

"Let me remind you jokers, I'm fully capable of doing the 'unpredictable' thing. I can go rogue like nobody's business!" She alternated between each of them, pointing aggressively, then returned to her photos.

Logan's hand ghosted the underside of her knee. "I like you better domesticated."

_Yeah, only when it's convenient for you, and never in bed._

She reminded herself to be kind and allowed herself to enjoy his touch.

Veronica's finger stopped on the picture of Connor shooting heroin with his foot propped up on the pool table. Something in the scene caught her eye, so she spread her fingertips over the glass tablet to magnify the image, then shifted it over to the center of the screen.

_Is that blood?_

She expanded the picture some more and a pang of nausea hit her. The larger the blood spot grew, the more lightheaded she became.

* * *

_Flashback._

_Veronica followed Danny Boyd through the back alley toward the rear exit of another building, and fleetingly wondered if this was where she would meet her maker. It was a dumb move, to say the least, but she was no stranger to those lately._

_She quickly looked over her shoulder in the direction of Logan's double-parked truck and hoped he had the decency not to listen to her request for him to stay in the car. His inability to follow directions was one of the things she both loved and hated about his personality. She laughed internally, knowing he'd probably say the same thing about her._

_Danny stopped and turned back to make sure she was still behind him, then bestowed her with a lecherous smile. "Come here." He opened the back exit door and motioned for her to follow._

_'Well, Veronica, you're either going to get what you came for or you're going to get what's coming to you,' she thought, before crossing the point of no return._

_As Veronica stepped through the doorjam, she was greeted with a sign that read 'The River Stix' and her breath caught roughly in her chest. _

_The River Stix was the home base of the Fighting Fitzpatricks, Neptune's first family of crime. Never in a million years had she expected to stumble into this hornets nest on a lark._

_'My father would have a heart attack if he knew I was here,' she thought, ruing her own stupidity and recklessness._

_Danny walked further into the bar, shoving aside a man standing by one of two pool tables. "Come here. Check it out. Take a look."_

_He tapped on a stain on the face of the pool table and looked up at Veronica to gauge her reaction. She was positive that was a blood stain, but wasn't sure if her reaction was supposed to convey shock or concern._

"_That's my blood." Danny announced proudly, followed by a stream of giggles._

_'Oh, I get it now. He wants me to be impressed,' she thought._

_He waggled his eyebrows at her. "Can you dig that?" _

_Veronica's eyes uneasily scanned from the blood stain on the baize back up to Danny's eager face. "What happened?"_

"_It was a little bar fight. Man, you should see the other guy. I got forty-five stitches." He puffed his chest out and flashed her a grin, then pulled up his wife-beater to show off the deep cross-cross of knife scars decorating his stomach. "Good as new."_

_Her eyes fell to the blood stain again and she plastered on a brave smile._

* * *

Veronica flipped the lid of the tablet shut and tossed it on the table in front of her angrily.

Keith lifted a questioning brow in his daughter's direction. "Something wrong?"

_Where do I fucking begin?_

She clasped her hands together to keep them from shaking. "Uh, the um, shredded material in the box on my front porch..."

"From the bomb scare?" he asked.

"Is it a bomb scare if there was an actual bomb involved?"

"It is if you defuse it in time, which we did. Besides, it wasn't a very big bomb. It was meant to scare more than harm."

_Unlike the car bomb. That was definitely meant to harm._

She nodded slowly and focused her eyes on a small imperfection on the wall behind her father's head. If she looked him in the eyes, she'd end up telling him everything. "I think it's from a pool table."

Keith smiled brightly at her. "I was actually thinking the same thing. I already have the lab checking it out."

Veronica clamped her hands together harder and rested them on top of the tablet. "Not just any pool table though..."

He sat further back in his chair and eyed her with apprehension. "Okay...?"

_Just say it. He'll never know how you know what you know unless you tell him. Dad is going to be too preoccupied with getting the bomber to worry about the details._

She took a deep breath and forced herself to look at a point slightly closer to his eyes. "I have a sneaking suspicion that the green felt in question is off one of the tables at the River Stix."

Keith pushed his body to the front of his chair again with interest. "What makes you say that? And how do you even know what the inside of the River Stix looks like, Veronica?"

_Or perhaps that was all wishful thinking?_

Logan shot Veronica a warning look, but she disregarded it with an eye roll. The tension between the two of them hadn't eased much since that morning, but she didn't have the energy to dwell.

"When I was investigating the prosecution's witness in Logan's murder trial, all roads led there. The guy was a doctor called Tom Griffith, and he supposedly specialized in plastic surgery, but his real specialty was patching up Irish criminals." She glanced up at him for a reaction, but his face was a blank mask. "Anyway, I didn't mean to go there, I was sort of taken there by mistake."

Keith glared at her. "Who took you there?"

_Really, I should dig ditches for a living. I clearly have a knack for it._

Veronica cleared her throat nervously. "Danny Boyd."

"Liam Fitzpatrick's cousin?" He was completely taken aback by the revelation.

She nodded, and a puff of incredulous laughter escaped her father's lips.

"He brought me over to one of the pool tables and showed me this enormous blood stain. He said it was his, the result of a knife fight, but he didn't say with whom. Apparently, a pool table makes a great stand-in for an operating table."

Keith pursed his mouth as he mulled over the new information. "I know the one you're talking about. I'll go over there later to check it out."

"I'll come with you," she offered.

"Veronica!" both Keith and Logan snapped simultaneously.

"What?" She looked back and forth between the two men.

Logan was practically burning a hole through her skull with his intense glare. "You know what?" He rose curtly from his seat. "I'm going to go get some air." He pushed his chair back with a screech and stalked off into the living room.

_Leaving again, Logan? Seems I can't do anything right today with him._

Veronica pressed her lips together to keep her outward demeanor calm, but her insides were cannibalizing themselves.

"Trouble in paradise?" Keith asked gently.

She threw her arms in the air. "What's paradise?"

He knowingly assessed her. "You did something."

"More like, I _didn't_ do something. Anyway, why do you assume it's me? Show's what you know." She stuck her tongue out.

"You want to talk about it?"

She looked at him like he'd just asked her if she wanted to get a root canal, which essentially put a period on the end of that discussion.

"You're going stir-crazy here, aren't you?" Keith leaned forward and pulled Veronica's untouched juice over to his side of the table.

"Of course I'm going stir crazy. What else would I be doing?" Veronica leaned forward and pulled her juice back over to her side. "Refills are available over at that silver box with the handle." She pointed to the fridge.

Her father looked at her with compassion. "You only got out of the hospital two weeks ago, honey. I know what it's like to not be able to investigate a case like you want to, it was the same for me for months after the incident with Aaron. Part of being a good investigator is knowing where your strengths lie and when to delegate."

_Qu'est-ce que c'est 'delegate'?_

"I don't understand why I need to delegate this. All it involves is walking into a bar and ordering a drink. Not exactly a Mossad operation." She expelled a guttural grunt of frustration. "I know you and Logan are just worried about me, but I'm fine. I'm not a house cat!"

"It's only a few more months, honey. Just until your ears heal. That's a drop in the bucket in the scheme of your life." He reached across the table and placed his hand on hers, then something passed behind his eyes and he quickly withdrew it.

Veronica's stomach instinctively lurched at the aborted gesture and she narrowed her eyes at him. "What aren't you telling me?"

He flinched, if only for a split second, but she caught it. She'd been trained to catch those little things, and it was clear he knew he'd been made the moment it happened.

"Spill it, dad."

Keith looked guilty, and she suddenly understood just how he must've felt every time she withheld information from him as a teen. Feeling stymied, she was mildly pissed off and more than a little bit scared for his safety.

_Is this what it feels like to be a parent? If so, I have an assload of apologizing to do._

"The bomb that killed Leo...I'm pretty sure it was meant for me," he admitted with enough shame to assuage her anger at him for withholding this theory.

"It was in _my_ car, not yours."

He shook his head. "It was intended to kill you, but it was meant for me - to hurt me through you."

"Who?" she asked sharply. She was through with the bullshit.

"Could be anybody. We Marses don't always play well with others."

"God, you're a bad liar." She dropped her head back in defeat.

"You think you're any better?" he challenged.

_Who would want to kill him? Who would be so desperate for retribution that they'd even go after his family in order to get it done? They were willing to kill a federal agent, no less! I can only think of one person who is both vindictive and crazy enough to attempt something like this. _

Veronica's eyebrows arched in epiphany. "So...you think Liam Fitzpatrick is trying to kill me in order to punish you for putting his entire family in jail?"

Keith shrugged, but his acknowledgment was clearly written across his features. "I don't know what else to think."

She nibbled aimlessly on the edge of her thumb. "But how? They're all in prison? Who is left on the outside to do the dirty work?"

He let out a broken laugh. "I've been trying to figure that one out for the last three months, honey."

Now furious, Veronica sprung to her feet. "This has been going on for _three _months and you're just mentioning it to me now? When I was on active duty, I had more resources at my disposal, I could have helped you. Why on Earth didn't you say anything?"

"You'd just gotten out of the hospital. You had 50 stitches in your head and a raging case of shell-shock, you didn't need to be burdened with anything else besides your recovery. Besides, at that point, there had only been four incidents."

_Somebody's been trying to kill him for several months? Have I really been so self-absorbed I never noticed?_

Veronica's face flushed with fury. "_Only_ four attempts on your life? Pfft. That's a lazy afternoon for most of us."

Keith rolled his eyes. "Veronica..."

"And how about now? At this point?" she asked, focusing her white hot attention on her evasive father. "How many, dad?"

He gripped the table and cast his eyes down to the floor. "Fourteen."

Veronica brought a shaky hand to her forehead and collapsed back into her chair. "Pardon my French, dad, but holy fucking shit!"

"Yep." He massaged the top of his bald head. "Somebody out there really has a hard-on to kill me."

"Oh God." She grimaced at his phrasing. "Just stop talking."

"Oh you can say 'fuck' but I can't say 'hard-on'?" Keith snickered as she groaned and squirmed in her chair. "Well, there you have it. That's everything I know."

_I guess it's my turn now._

"I was so sure I'd killed Leo," Veronica said, in disbelief.

Keith swallowed thickly and looked his daughter in the eye. "No, that would be me."

"Come on, dad, you didn't wire up my car to blow." Veronica reached into her jeans pocket and produced a key, then slid it across the cold surface of the table to him. "But this might help us figure out just who did."

He examined the key and quirked his brow. "A bus locker key?"

She nodded. "Right before he died, Leo told me he had a secret. Whatever he had been doing, he was in deep and wanted my help. He never did get a chance to tell me what it was, but in my experience, nobody keeps a key to an anonymous bus locker unless they have something they don't want other people to see. I guess it was just lucky that I got chilly that night and that Leo was a gentleman. Otherwise, we wouldn't have this." Veronica pointed to the key.

A slow smile spread across Keith's face, and the impish twinkle he usually sported - the same one she'd seen dancing in her own eyes - finally reignited. "You free this afternoon? I was thinking of taking my darling daughter to lunch at that new Chinese place near the bus station. Only if you're hungry, that is..."

_He's letting me investigate? Thank God!_

Veronica mirrored her father's smile and her own eyes lit up. "I could always eat."

_Feels like old times._

* * *

A loud pounding woke Mac out of a deep sleep and she ducked her head further under the covers. It was less than a minute later that she realized the pounding was actually just her own heartbeat. She wasn't an accomplished drinker, and hadn't been acquainted with a hangover since her days at Hearst, and now she remembered why.

_Hangovers really do heighten the senses in every worst possible way. Ugh, I feel like I'm gonna barf._

Her mouth was a dry husk, her stomach as unsteady as the sea, and she could swear that every cell in her head was on the verge of spontaneous combustion.

_Two bottles of champagne + God knows what else = total annihilation. It's official, girl, you are no longer in college._

She dug her fingers into her temples and whimpered. It was like the universe was mocking her for being such a lightweight.

Mac writhed in place, every molecule in her body ached as it swept back and forth over 1,200 thread count, Italian sheets.

_Huh?_

Her eyes shot open and she pulled the duvet from her face. The room she was sleeping in was strange, as was the masculine arm draped casually around her midriff.

_Oh fuck me!_

Judging from her lack of clothes, she could only assume somebody already had.

Mac's pulse started to race and the typical hangover cold sweats took hold. This day wasn't going to end well...or begin well either, it seemed.

She threw the sheets off of her body to get some air. Between the heavy, warm arm and her body's need to purge the alcohol through sweating, she felt like she was suffocating.

_I think I'm going to be sick._

She meant it on every level, but especially at the base one, and searched desperately next to the bed for a waste paper basket. Finding one just in time, Mac leaned forward and vomited into the bin two times in a row.

"Oh fuck..." she whispered, hoping the sound of her own voice might calm her.

_No such luck._

She swiped back a lock of hair that had shellacked itself to her neck, leaned forward and emptied the contents of her stomach once more.

Mac jumped as she felt a set of hands gently gather up her hair and hold it back for her as she threw up one last time.

"Thanks," she rasped hoarsely, before placing the bin back on the floor. One of the hands dropped from her hair and started to rub soothing circles in the center of her back.

_God, I can't turn around. I just can't. I don't want to know. If I'm lucky, it's Dick; if I'm unlucky, it's Wiedman; and if I'm very, very unlucky, it's Alexei Petrenko._

"Rough night?" he asked.

She swallowed back a mouthful of acid. "Rough morning."

A pair of lips grazed her bare shoulder. "Can I get you anything?"

Mac sighed and shook her head. She knew that voice, and knew it well.

Good thing she doesn't gamble, because as it turned out, Mac was one very, very unlucky woman.

* * *

**A/N – Sorry to trample on your LoVe and MaDi hearts, but the story does need an arc – though I will promise you a happy ending for both couples, so sit tight. You'll learn more about Mac's night in the next chapter.**

**Please forgive the slight lateness of this chapter. I've been feeling kind of uninspired lately and am fighting some wicked writer's block. Hopefully this chapter won't reflect that, but just know I'm doing my best to get these updates out to you all quickly. My goal is once every 5-7 days. **

**Extra big thanks to silverlining2k6 for eHolding my hand through the writer's block.**

**Hope you liked the chapter, please let me know either way, because I am sluuuuugish. Each review is like a tiny cattle prod, pushing me toward the keyboard. The pressure of 101 people waiting for an update weighs heavily on my soul!**

**Thanks again for all of the comments – especially those of you who take the time to leave one every time. You seriously rock: JeniLyn2000, BeWitchingRedhead36, JosieLynn, Alisosia, radiate689, RedJane12, R18P, krazyy989, Shel12, Angel, Nichole, LoVefan1123, genenigurl89, HoneyBee1, Cainc3, silvergrrrl, DalWriter, emackenzie, Hoey, KatieDean0343, S. Augustara, Differential Equation, Angelfish66, Regeld, tacosandflowers, ptitemel38, cmackie, silverlining2k6**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N - As promised, an earlier update! Really appreciate all of the kind reviews. Please keep 'em coming! **

**Special thanks to Silverlining2k6 for being a badass.**

* * *

Previously: Logan asked Veronica to marry him and she wouldn't give him an answer either way. He got angry and stormed off, but they made up later. Mac had dinner with Petrenko at a molecular gastronomy restaurant and a message appeared in her drink to meet a fedora-wearing _somebody_ in the bathroom. Veronica recognized the blood stain on the pool table in the picture of Connor shooting up as being from The River Stix and connected it to the blood-stained fabric in the diffused bomb. Keith revealed he'd been the target of many attempts on his life over the last three months, and said he thought the car bomb was meant as a message to him. Both Marses now suspect the Fitzpatrick gang was behind everything, but can't figure out how, since Keith put them all in jail years ago. Mac wakes up naked, with a nasty hangover and a man's arm around her waist.

* * *

**CHAPTER 6**

On her third clumsy attempt, Mac was finally able to successfully slide her house key into the front door lock without dropping it. Child's play, for people over the age of seven, but a huge coup for a woman who spent half the morning with her head in a garbage can, and the other half stumbling toward her apartment in a trip that gave new meaning to the term 'walk of shame'.

Like a pornographic version of Alice, Mac had fallen through the overly-gilded looking glass, eaten strange foods that weren't what they appeared to be, drank mood-enhancing beverages with a man who may or may not be secretly mad, and then woken up wondering if everything she'd lived through had simply been a booze-fueled nightmare.

_If only._

Mac leaned against the outside of the door with the weight of her entire frame and turned the knob, inadvertently sending herself careering into the back wall of her hallway. "Crap!"

She swept her hair – still damp from the rushed shower she took before she ran out – from her face, and struggled to regain her bearings, as a rustling noise coming from her living room startled her. "Is somebody here?"

A mop of blond hair rose slowly from beyond the back of her sofa and she cursed inwardly.

_Of course he's here, because my morning hasn't been humiliating enough as it is. Maybe the universe can have my dad call now too, just to really put an exclamation point on this thing?_

"Dick?"

"Hey..."

She didn't think it was possible to roll your eyes with empathy at anyone, but somehow he managed to do just that.

"You had a rager last night, huh?" Still half-asleep, Dick gripped the spine of the sofa and pulled himself to his knees to look at her.

Mac tossed her handbag onto the kitchen table and watched it slide carelessly to the floor with a thud.

_There's no way I'm picking that up now._

"I don't know what happened," she said, her chest tightening with mortification like a vice around her chest. She trundled over to the couch and let her aching body slide down next to his. It couldn't get any worse, so she may as well lean into the horror of it all.

"You don't know what happened to make you get that wasted, or you _really _don't know what happened?" he asked, his brow pinched in concern.

She forced herself to meet his gaze. She owed him that much. "Both?"

"Shit." Dick let out a ragged exhale, and she found herself counting down the seconds until he would make his inevitable exit.

Was he mad at her? Did he even have a right to be? She really wasn't sure, but if her feelings of guilt were telling her anything, it's that the answer to both questions was probably yes.

Mac felt his arm slide along her shoulders and pull her closer. "Are you okay?"

_I cannot say I was expecting that response._

She laughed bitterly and shook her head. "Not really, Dick. No."

Dick's thumb gently stroked the exposed skin on her upper arm and the tenderness of his touch nearly broke her. "It sucks, but it's nothing to be embarrassed about. It's happened to the best of us, Mackie."

"It doesn't happen to me," she whispered to herself.

"It does now." He forced a grin through his obvious discomfort, and she couldn't help but return it.

_Why is he being so cool about this? _

She felt unworthy of such a kind gesture, and wondered when the tables had turned and Dick became the mensch in their relationship.

_Is this even a relationship?_

She wondered if maybe he doesn't like her as much as she thought he did. If Veronica stumbled in drunk from a one-nighter with her boss, Logan would probably impale himself on chicken wire, right after smashing the guy's head in with a boot, that is.

She then reminded herself that Dick wasn't Logan, and that maybe that was a good thing. Logan was all grand gestures and heartfelt monologues, while his best friend showed his affection in smaller ways, like pretending to enjoy vegan food on their picnic and breaking into her apartment to leave a bottle of wine chilling on ice after her first day of work.

Deep down, Mac was still the same timid girl who hung out in the computer room to avoid dealing with people. Nobody turned their heads when she walked into a room like they did with Veronica, and that was fine by her. She didn't need the world to admire her – she only needed him to – which was probably a lost cause after the night she'd just had.

_Did I really let one Gin & Tonic fuck up my life? _

"I am so embarrassed. I honestly have no idea what happened. One minute I was drinking a gin & tonic at the restaurant, and the next thing I remember is waking up..." She felt him tense up next to her and it she couldn't help the rush she got from knowing that it bothered him, even though she had no business enjoying his pain. "Anyway, I've had a lot to drink before, but never so much that I've blacked out."

Dick stretched his legs out and sank back into a horizontal position, taking Mac with him. "Did you puke?"

Mac groaned and relaxed into his side. "Like it was my job."

_This feels nice. I don't deserve nice._

Dick let out a low whistle. "Been there. A lot. What you need, is a shot of something strong, like tequila."

Their faces were only inches apart, and she realized it was the closest they'd been since he kissed her in the basement of Alexei's club, the night her life went to hell without even the courtesy of a hand basket.

She took a moment to appreciate his features and could see him examining her back with equal interest.

_He really does have the most beautiful eyes, a strong Roman nose and masculine jaw. I knew he was handsome, but I never really checked him out until now. He was Cassidy's brother, it would have been weird. I'm happy they look nothing alike._

"Are you gonna follow the doctor's orders, or are you still too wrecked to understand English?"

She rolled her eyes and felt her dimples fight their way to the surface of her cheeks. "So...where'd you get your medical degree, Dr. Casablancas?"

"University of Tijuana." He waggled his eyebrows at her. "I also hold a masters degree in donkey shows."

Mac laughed so hard she started to cough, and Dick patted her back until she caught her breath again.

"Mackie, seriously. You need some hair of the dog that bit ya, or at least a beer if you don't think you can hack hard booze right now."

Even the mere mention of alcohol had her stomach shrinking in fear. "No way."

"You don't trust me?" He palmed his chin and posed. "You're looking at the face of a dude with a phone book's worth of shit-canned and shit-can-adjacent knowledge. I'm like a living, breathing Enclyclopedia Blitz-Tankedica. This is kinda my area of expertise, MacKenzie."

"It's not that..." Mac had a flash of memory and her vision blurred.

* * *

_The night before._

_The bathroom was a generous size for one, but pushing it for two, especially if one of those two was built like a forward-center for the Lakers. _

_Mac's skin was growing hot and her balance unsteady, so she reached out and tried to find purchase any way she could. Inching back toward the edge of the sink cabinet, she misjudged the distance and painfully slammed her kidney into the corner. "Crap," she mumbled under her breath and vigorously rubbed at her bruise. _

"_This is kind of my area of expertise, Ms. MacKenzie." Clarence Wiedman adjusted his fedora and leaned against the opposite wall of the private bathroom._

"_Yeah? Well pardon me for being skeptical, Mr. Wiedman, but aren't you the guy who got tricked by a teenager? Multiple times?"_

_Clarence smiled. "Did it ever occur to you that some of those times I wasn't tricked? That perhaps I let her get away with a few of the stunts she pulled because I felt she was in the right? My loyalties don't waver, but sometimes that means I have to do things, or let others do things that I believe are in my clients' best interest – even if they don't realize it at the time. There are ways of forcing an employer's hand without lifting a finger, my dear."_

_Her ankles wobbled in her too-high shoes and she admonished herself for ever thinking she could pull off wearing a 4" heel. Who the hell did she think she was? A guy gave her a ten thousand dollar bracelet and suddenly she's Charlize Theron? _

"_Maybe, but some of those times you were tricked." Her smile looked placid, but she was sure that Clarence could tell what was happening beneath the surface. Like he said, he was an expert._

_"Yes, but calling Veronica Mars a teenager is like calling a trained chimpanzee a harmless pet. It may be true on the surface, but deep down that monkey's got primal instincts and won't hesitate to tear your throat out when provoked. Mars was never a teenager."_

_Mac shrugged. "Fair enough, but just so you know, I'm not Veronica. I'm no Nikita. I'm willing to do what you're asking, but I need assurances that you're going to be there to take care of things after the shit hits the fan, because you know it will."_

_Clarence flashed her a toothless smile. "Taking care of things is what I do, MacKenzie. You just do your part and trust me to do mine, okay? I've got your back."_

"_Just promise me one thing..." Her head was beginning to throb and she pressed her thumb in-between her eyes to ease the pain. "Alexei said that if I ever double-crossed him, he'd hurt - or I think he actually said, kill - Dick Casablancas. Can you make sure that doesn't happen, you know...even if I'm not around to appreciate it?"_

_The ex company man straightened his back and towered over her, then tipped his hat in her direction. "I've got it covered."_

* * *

Dick didn't know what he was allowed to be feeling. Mac wasn't his girlfriend, but she wasn't nothing to him either. She had a right to fuck whomever she wanted – just as he did – but he just didn't think in a million years she'd actually go through with it. Maybe it was wishful-thinking, but he didn't think that she was interested in screwing other guys. Clearly he got it wrong.

"I trust you," Mac said, continuing to stare into his face. "I just, I don't know if I can drink anything. God, Dick, I'm so embarrassed. You must think I'm the biggest whore." Her bottom lip started to quiver and he resisted the impulse to suck it into his mouth.

_Whore? No. Naïve? Damn straight! She played right into that dude's hands. I never should have let her go out on that date with that fucking movie villain. Of course, there was no way he wouldn't get lucky, guys like that make their own luck._

Even if she lived this night over with 20 other guys, she still wouldn't approach the level of whoredom he perpetrated in his late teens. "No, that would be me."

"You're being really cool about this." Mac said, chewing on her bottom lip nervously.

Dick exhaled loudly and stretched his torso. "What can I say? I'm a cool guy."

"Will wonders never cease..." Mac's eyes crinkled with humor and her teeth released her lip. "You know, I'm not sure if this is the best or the worst thing about last night, but I don't even remember any of it. You know, the, uh..._it _part."

_Hey, guess I should be happy she's not bragging about how awesome he was in bed, but still...I hate that fucking guy. _

She kneaded her hands together anxiously, and even though he felt hurt, he just couldn't bring himself to be mad at her, she was doing enough of that for the both of them. Mac was a good girl, and for her to do something crazy like that, then there had to be hijinks afoot.

_If I find out he slipped her something last night, I am going to go John McClane on his ass. I will fuck Russian Hans Gruber up._

Mac wasn't like the skanks he usually hung out with. A night like she'd just had would have been a non-event for one of them, but that's why he liked her. She was different, and he kind of needed different in his life right about now, because he didn't want to be the kind of guy anymore who thought that shit was okay.

The old Dick was a hedonist, whose life philosophy a daily exercise in douchebaggery. His blase persona was carefully fabricated so as not to tempt even the most inquisitive mind to peek behind the curtain. Even a professional snoop like Veronica Mars never caught on to his act – and it was an act.

The way he figured it, if he was busy getting drunk and getting off, he'd feel too good to think about that fact that his mom didn't give a shit about him, his dad bolted from his life without a second thought, and that he was partially responsible for turning his baby brother into a mass murderer. He needed to stay shallow, because he really wouldn't have to dig all that deep in order to hit a nerve. So he stayed drunk, and tried his best not to give a shit. Most of the time this worked, except when it didn't. No amount of pleasure could fill a hole that big, no matter how much he tried to stuff in. After a while, pleasure didn't feel like pleasure anymore, if felt like work. The most he could do on some days was just cover the hole with leaves and hope that nobody fell in.

"Like I said, Mackie, I've been there." Dick shrugged and brushed her wet hair from her face. "I'm actually kind of relieved you don't remember it. Believe me, it's better when you don't."

"You don't think I'm disgusting? I do." She looked away shamefully.

_Disgusting? Seriously? Of all people, she's asking me this?_

He wasn't used to feeling so unsure of himself. It's not like he'd ever had to put in any effort to get laid, but Mac wasn't impressed by the same shit the other girls were, and that only made him want to win her over more. If he could get her to like him, he'd know he succeeded in moving the needle a little closer to normal, because there's no way in hell she'd choose to be with a bastard. "Do you – do you, um, like him, or something?"

Mac groaned and her forehead collapsed against his shoulder. "God, no. Seriously, I don't like him that way. I don't even like him in any way, really."

_Whew._

"How could I do something like that with him? I can't even look at myself. You're going to have to help me cover all of the mirrors in this apartment with a black shroud."

Dick rolled his eyes. "Stop making such a big deal out of it. So you fucked him, it happens. Sex for guys is like shaking hands." Mac eyed him skeptically. "Okay, fine. Sex for _some _guys is like shaking hands, but those other guys don't count. They're just pussies who carry their girlfriends' handbags around the mall and cry after they 'make love' on top of a pillow fort. Real guys, though? It's not a big deal for them, and it shouldn't be for you, either."

She shifted next to him and her face contorted with distress. "Sex _is _a big deal for me, Dick, okay? I don't just have it with anybody. I mean, I waited until I..."

Her voice trailed off and he knew immediately who she was thinking about, and it wasn't a 50 year old Russian dude.

_I can't go there with her. Please do not let her bring up her first time with Beav. I just can't._

"I waited..." she said weakly. "Sex is not a handshake for me, and to be frank, I'm kind of sad for you, if that's how you see it."

_Great. Now, I'm the asshole again._

"It's how I _saw_ it, it's not how I see it now, you know what I mean?" Dick really meant that. He'd done it a thousand different ways with as many woman, and the sheer act of sex didn't really hold the allure it once had, at least, not in the anonymous way he'd been going at it before. It was a release, but then again, so was taking a leak.

In one of his econ classes at Hearst, he learned about the 'law of diminishing return' – the more you had something, the less special it became – and realized that it could be applied to just about everything in his life. He had too much of everything, and none of it meant crap to him.

Mac looked at him with curiosity. "You really mean that?"

"Hell yeah, I mean it." He nodded vigorously, she had to know he was serious. "I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm pissed it wasn't me you did last night, but you know, it woulda been way suckier if it _had _been me you screwed and then you didn't remember it."

Her cheeks flushed and she tried her best to look behind him. "I think I definitely would've remembered sleeping with you, Dick."

_Is it wrong I get so turned on every time she's embarrassed?_

"Believe it." Dick's grin returned, as cocky as ever. "Now stay put while I get you a breakfast beer and then maybe I'll let you make things up to me with a hand job." Mac pinched his arm hard. "Ow! I was joking! Damn, woman."

* * *

Veronica and Keith pulled into the parking lot of the River Stix and sat silently in the car, letting it idle.

_Why the hell are we just sitting here?_

It had been ages since her last investigation and her morning sickness had been kind enough to take the day off, so Veronica was itching to get started. "What are we waiting for? God wouldn't have given me maracas if He didn't want me to shake 'em."

Keith let his head drop to the steering wheel. "No father wants to hear about his daughter's maracas."

She looked down at her chest. "Mine are more like those egg shakers kids use in music class."

"If I didn't know you better, I might think you were trying to drive me from the car, so we could go into the bar faster."

"Would I resort to psychological manipulation just to get what I want? I am but a delicate flower."

"Yeah. A cactus rose." Keith glanced at something in the rear view mirror and cut the motor.

_Maybe it's time to work on being less prickly?_

Veronica turned her head to see what her dad was looking at, and a big smile spread across her face. She opened the car door a crack and let her feet slide down onto the pavement. "As I live and breathe...this is about the last place I expected to see the likes of you, Mr. Navarro."

Weevil slowed his gait as he approached the car and crossed his arms over his chest. "As if I'd let your tiny ass go in there alone."

_Ah, should've figured pops would call in the cavalry._

"I'm not alone." She looked over her shoulder and smiled at her father. "I've got the sheriff on my side, which makes me the posse. I've always wanted to be a posse..." She sighed wistfully and Keith indulged her with a roll of his eyes.

"Damn carnala, get out of the car already. This place ain't gonna investigate itself. " Weevil pulled his partner to a standing position by her hands.

"Seriously though, you might be even less welcome here than we are," Veronica said, gesturing between her dad and herself. "You sure you want to invite trouble into your life like that?"

"I'll risk it." Weevil smirked. He'd been hip to her game long enough to know what she was up to. Obviously, she was going to have to share. "Anyway, I'm probably more welcome here than I am at home right now."

"What happened with Marta?" Keith asked.

"Guess she didn't appreciate my little disappearing act a while ago. Anyway, she's packing her shit as we speak, so I guess that's that." He kicked a loose piece of asphalt away from the car.

_Crap. Now I feel guilty about being kidnapped._

Veronica fought off the urge to say something comforting, knowing Weevil would feel far less comforted if she did. "I've been meaning to school your ass at pool since I got back, so this is all very good timing for me."

She could feel her father smiling proudly at her as he opened the door. "Glad we could accommodate your schedule. After you, my dear." He waved her inside.

* * *

Not one of them had stepped foot in the River Stix since the Fitzpatrick clan had been put behind bars, so they weren't sure what they should expect, but Veronica was pretty sure that none of them were expecting Neptune's consummate dive bar to be transformed into a bastion of old world glamor.

In the three years since Molly Fitzpatrick had gained control of the place, she had apparently given the joint a full-throttle overhaul. What was once Mad Dog and methamphetamine, now looked to be more gimlets and ganja. It looked as though Molly bought out the nearest Restoration Hardware and turned the place into an old-fashioned speak-easy.

Inside, a small part of Veronica jumped for joy, knowing that Liam would probably rather stop drinking cold-turkey than do it in this place. "I'll be at the bar ordering up some bathtub gin." She threw her thumb in the direction of the bar.

One thing that hadn't changed much, was the criminal element.

"You might want to to hang back a bit, boss," Weevil said with concern, as he noticed a pair of unfriendly suits in the corner eying Keith.

The sheriff scoffed. "Me? Nah. People love me. In fact, I just might take a lap around this place and do some glad-handing. Gotta stay in touch with my constituents." He smiled impishly and approached his table of admirers.

_And he thinks I'm incorrigible?_

Veronica approached the bar and waited for service. For a Sunday afternoon, the place was pretty busy, which kept the small staff running ragged. She smoothed her hand across the top of the hammered copper bar and noted to herself that it was probably the first time she'd ever touched anything in that place willingly.

A man in an ill-fitting leather jacket leered at her from the last stool on the right. Her skin crawled as his eyesight settled on her breasts, making her feel exposed. "Don't see a lot of girls like you in here..."

"Funny, they don't see a lot of guys like you ever," she said, gesturing to her chest. "They go more for the subtle type, if you know what I mean."

"Huh?" the sleazebag looked at her with confusion.

"I assumed you were talking to my tits," she gestured to her breasts again. "Because you sure were lookin' at 'em."

"It's a free country."

"It certainly is. At least...that's what they teach us at the academy." She opened her blazer slightly, flashing her service weapon.

A blonde bartender in a tight red dress pulled a bottle of Absinthe off of the top shelf, giving the room a generous view of the backs of her thighs. "Don't worry about Zeppo. He may be skeezy, but he's harmless."

_That's what we always said about Cassidy._

The blonde placed the tall glass of absinthe onto a saucer, added a sugar cube next to it as a garnish, and then snapped her fingers at a barely legal redheaded in a snug, black shortie romper, who immediately crossed the room to retrieve the drink.

"What can I get for - -" The bartender's eyes met Veronica's and both women nearly lost the ability to speak. "Veronica Mars. Didn't think I'd ever be seeing you again."

Veronica leaned both elbows on the bar and smirked. "Why? You figured I'd be dead by now?"

Molly Fitzpatrick tossed a bar rag to the side and approached her. "Honestly? Yeah. I heard you went and got yourself some serious credentials. It's a dangerous line of work you're in now. Things happen."

_Things like exploding cars?_

"The same could be said of you." Molly was no shrinking violet, which was just about the only thing Veronica respected about her. She may have helped Weevil gather enough evidence to aim Lamb in Thumper's direction for Felix's murder, but that was nearly a year after she kept her trap shut about her suspicions.

She knew her family wanted Felix dead, and knew that Logan was innocent of the crime, but she stood back and did nothing about it, like a coward. Felix may have been a punk, but he definitely deserved more from the woman who claimed to love him. Had it been Logan or Duncan, Veronica never would have rested until justice was served.

"I'm just a bartender. The only danger I'm in involves broken glass and bad drunks." Molly gave her a Cheshire smile and leaned forward on the bar, echoing Veronica's pose. "So what can I get you?"

"Some answers."

Molly snorted her response. "You haven't changed one bit."

"Have you?" Veronica tilted her head to the side to catch Molly's reaction. The other woman's expression remained impassive, so she did the only thing she could do. She ordered a drink. "I'll have a coke."

"A coke? Are you pregnant or something?" She meant it as a joke, but apparently Veronica wasn't the only one who excelled at reading body language. "Oh my God, you _are_, aren't you?"

There was no way she was going to get sucked into this. She had to regain control over the conversation. "Do you talk to your uncles much?"

"I'll answer you if you answer me first." She leaned down and pulled a glass bottle of coke from the mini fridge. "I guarantee my answer's going to be more interesting."

_Who knew Molly had the negotiation tactics of a rug peddler?_

Veronica had never been in this position before, trading personal information for possible intel. She wasn't sure where the FBI stood on this, in terms of ethics, but she wasn't sure she gave a shit what the FBI thought anymore. "How's Liam doing?"

"How far along are you?"

Veronica gave Molly her best dumb cheerleader impression. "Why? Are you planning on throwing me a baby shower? I should warn you, I'm pretty low on friends...or was it that I have friends that are low? I always get those mixed up."

Molly smiled knowingly and nodded her head. "Alright, you win. I'll go first."

_Success!_

"When's the last time you spoke to Liam?"

"Umm...when did your daddy put him in jail again?" She leaned both arms on the bar, giving Veronica and everyone around her a full view of her ample cleavage. "Oh yeah...about three years, give or take." She looked at Veronica expectantly.

"Around nine weeks."

Molly's expression was smug.

"You really don't ever visit Liam?" Veronica telegraphed her disbelief loud and clear. "Why?"

She cocked a hip out and narrowed her gaze. "Are you seriously asking me that? Why the fuck do you think?"

The tone of the conversation softened as Veronica felt her heartstrings tug. She may not be the president of Molly's fan club, but she understood loss. "It's been a while since high school. Are you saying you're still hung up on Felix?"

The taller blonde drew her mouth into a tight purse, the effortless cool she had earlier dropping away like a tarp with the mention of her fallen lover's name. "I would think that you, of all people, would understand."

Veronica raised a questioning eyebrow, preferring to play dumb.

"Logan Echolls. That's his little rugrat in your body, isn't it?"

She shrugged.

_Looks like I'm not the only one doing a little background research._

Her brows creased and she drew a deep breath. She wasn't used to being caught off guard like this. Maybe Weevil wasn't joking when he said her PI skills were rusty. The FBI has a very organized way of collecting information and it doesn't usually involve a tit for tat exchange with old schoolmates. "What about Patrick or Ciaran and Padraig? Danny?"

"I talk to Uncle Patrick and Danny. Patrick got a raw deal. I'm still pissed at your dad for that." Molly's hard facade was firmly back in place now.

"I checked out the back room, Vee. They still got a pool table, but nobody seems to know what happened to the other two..." Weevil trundled up behind Veronica and casually threw an arm over her shoulders before noticing who she was talking to.

Molly's eyes went wide and her emotional tarp tumbled to the ground once more. "Eli."

Veronica could feel Weevil's body stiffen next to hers and his grip on her shoulder increase its pressure. "Molly," he said tightly, before averting his eyes.

_What the fuck? Why do I feel like I'm watching the end of a movie I fell asleep in the middle of?_

* * *

Logan opened the front door to his house and immediately had the wind knocked out of him by Lilly Kane, who fast wrapped her arms around his midriff with an alarming force for such a little girl. "Hey, Uncle Lo!"

He peered down at the ghost of his first girlfriend and rumpled her hair. "Hey, Short-Round."

"I'm thirsty. Can I have a Fizzy Lizzy, please? Mrs. Mars gave me a Fizzy Lizzy yesterday." Lilly grabbed his hand and tugged on it. "I know where they are in your fridge. I know where everything is already." She beamed up at him proudly.

"Of course you do. Maybe we should ask your father if it's okay first?" With an amused expression, Logan looked toward Duncan and cupped his ear. "Fizzy Lizzy? Yay or nay?"

Lilly opened her eyes wide, batted her lashes at her dad, and mouthed the word 'please'.

_Jesus. This little one already had the routine down pat. God help all seven year old boys everywhere._

Duncan tapped his chin in deliberation. "Yay."

"Yay!" Lilly cheered in response and took off through the door.

"Go on, princess," he said, carrying Lilly's overnight bag inside. "Sorry we're late, I took the long way." His fingers grazed his daughter's back as she slipped out of reach.

Logan's chest tightened with sadness for his friend. It couldn't be easy leaving your entire reason for living on the doorstep of an old friend's house.

"I'm sure I'd do the same." He clapped his buddy's back and guided him inside. "So, do you have you last meal all picked out?"

Duncan chuckled dryly. "I haven't been able to eat for days. I just – I'm trying to spend every second I can with her, you know? They change so much in such a short period of time, and I just can't believe I'm going to miss - -" He got too choked up to continue the thought. "Anyway...I guess I got seven years with her I wouldn't have had otherwise, so I should just be grateful for that. Plus, with you guys, at least I'll know she'll be safe."

Logan gazed intensely at him, bringing a comforting hand to rest on his shoulder. "She will be. Even with all of the crazy shit that's been going on."

"Yeah. Between Veronica and her dad, I almost feel bad for the poor bastard who sent that bomb. Once Veronica gets her mitts on the guy, he's pretty much toast."

_That's my Bobcat._

"Just want you to know, we'd protect Lilly with our lives, if it came to that. It wouldn't even be a question."

Duncan's blue eyes glistened with appreciation. "You already have, man. I know that."

"Good." Logan grabbed Lilly's bag from his hands and stowed it in the corner of the hallway. "It's beautiful today. You should really get out as much as you can, while you still can. Want to grab a beer and watch the sun set over the water?"

"Are you trying to seduce me, Mr. Echolls?" Duncan struggled to keep a straight face.

Logan looked at his watch. "Veronica's been gone for a few hours now, and I'm starting to get the detox shakes, so maybe if you play your cards right..."

"Where'd she go?" Duncan followed Logan into the kitchen and leaned his back up against the wall. "I thought after that last attempt, Keith would have forced her to live in the wine cellar, full-time."

Logan pulled two Amstels from the fridge door and uncapped them both. "No such luck. In true Mars fashion, he's letting her investigate the fucki-" Duncan shot him a sharp look and then bobbed his head toward Lilly, who was sitting quietly at the table drinking her soda. "Sorry man, I keep forgetting. Alicia already read me the riot act about my language earlier."

"I know the word fuck, daddy. I head you say it yesterday on the phone to grandma when you asked her to send the driver to come get us." She calmly took another sip of her drink and traced the wood grain on the kitchen table with her finger.

Duncan tittered with embarrassment. "Sweetie, I think you must be mistaken."

She looked up from the table. "No, I'm not. It was when your voice sounded all funny, right after you were talking to Auntie Vee."

_Maybe Mr. Perfect isn't so perfect after all?_

Duncan turned a deep shade of fuchsia and swiped the beer out of Logan's outstretched hand before returning to his spot on the wall. "Clearly, I'm going to need this."

"So _that's _where that bottle of Chateau Latour ran off to. I knew it couldn't have been Ronnie." Logan let his back fall against the closed fridge door. "The other day, Wallace stopped by on his way to a dinner party to borrow an emergency bottle of champagne, and Veronica was like 'no problem, I'll just run down and get it for you', but when she came back up, she was carrying a bottle of dessert wine. From Australia." He shuddered with disgust. "I have no idea how _that _even got down there. Maybe something one of Weevil's people left behind?"

"I'll replace the Latour."

Logan brushed his hand in the air. "Come on. What's a thousand dollar bottle of wine between friends?"

Duncan looked contrite. "I drank two of them, actually."

_Damn. You really did tie one on, didn't you, dude?_

"I can afford it. Consider it a going away present," he said, absentmindedly tapping out a rhythm on his palm with the neck of the beer bottle.

"There's something else..." Duncan slumped against the wall and glanced at his daughter.

Logan caught on quickly and pushed himself off of the fridge. "Hey Lilly, do you like video games?"

She looked up from her drink. "Yeah. What kid doesn't?"

"Upstairs in the office – that's the room all the way on the right – is every game system your little heart could ever desire." Logan smiled at her and pointed toward the stairs.

"Are you trying to get rid of me?"

"Is it working?"

Lilly blew a kiss to father and left the room. "Wa ki liao, daddy!"

_Was that Chinese?_

"We lived in Singapore," Duncan reminded him, then lifted the bottle of beer to his forehead and sighed. "Yesterday, in the cellar, I asked Veronica to kiss me."

Logan's jaw tightened and he felt the air leave his lungs. He had to keep it together. He couldn't be that guy they all expected him to be or he'd lose his girl for sure. He'd come so far with his anger management, he couldn't just let everything fall to shit over Duncan's wayward libido. "Well, aren't you just the sailor on leave?"

"It wasn't like that, Logan. I was wasted and maudlin, and just generally feeling sorry for myself." Duncan paced a complete lap around the kitchen. "I wouldn't have – I mean, I know you're together. I wasn't trying to - -"

Logan's voice lowered half an octave. "Yeah well, if wouldn't matter if you were. You can try all you want, _sailor_, but she's with me now."

"I know!" Duncan ran a hand back and forth over his head. "I know. I just wanted to tell you myself, so you didn't think...I'm sorry, okay? I don't want it to become a 'thing' with us. God knows we have enough of those for three lifetimes." He cradled his own head protectively and waited for the fallout.

_You can say that again, brother._

"Yeah." Acknowledgment was all Logan was willing to give his old friend at the moment. He wasn't really in much of a forgiving mood, though he would be the first one to admit he'd done exactly the same thing to exactly the same woman several times over the years. He was no stranger to the inappropriately-timed, drunken pass. If there was one thing Logan could appreciate, it was a good dose of irony. "It's...yeah. I'm not going to take a swing at you, if that's what you're bracing for, but I think we should probably cancel those matching jogging suits we ordered."

Duncan scratched at his hair with both hands. "I knew it would be bad, telling you this. I'm an idiot, but I swear I'm not trying to move in on Veronica...speaking of which, I don't even know how I'm going to look her in the face after yesterday."

Logan leaned sideways on the door frame in contemplation. "Why? I highly doubt it was the most embarrassing thing you've ever done in front of her. What was her response, anyway?"

_This should be good for a laugh._

"You mean, when I asked her for a kiss?"

"I mean, when you sloppily attempted to seduce my live-in girlfriend," Logan corrected.

Duncan exhaled a large breath and looked at his own shoes. "She said she'd think about it."

_When I asked for a laugh, I didn't think the laugh would be on me._

Logan felt the floor move under his feet and gripped the wall for support. "That is...fabulous."

"Logan..." Duncan tried to grab onto his arm, but he was shrugged off.

"No, I'm serious." His voice had an edge now that he both recognized and feared. It had been years since he'd heard it, since there was one person who ever provoked its use, and she had been gone for half a decade. "Now, I might actually complete my Guinness Book of World Records attempt at 'most cheated on boyfriend' in history." He crossed his fingers and faked his excitement.

Logan ran his hand through his hair and shifted his weight back and forth on his feet. "Your sister really gave me quite the lead, but then Ronnie had to go and fuck it all up by being the only woman _not_ to find comfort in the schlong of another man while we were together. But now, it seems I can finally dust off that mantle, because I think this might be my year." He took a swipe at the kitchen counter top, knocking a stack of tea towels to the ground. "Huzzah."

_What the fuck was she thinking? Oh wait, I know, she was probably thinking it would be good for her to line up a backup for after my inevitable self-destruction._

Duncan's breathing was labored and his eyes darted nervously around the room. "Hey – look. I think she just said it to get me to stop talking. She told me no at first, but I kept at it, you know, harassing her like any good, drunk asshole would..."

Logan held his beer up to toast. "I should be thanking you."

Duncan shook his head from side to side. "Don't do this, Logan. Don't be an idiot like I was. You're just going to end up screwing yourself like you always do, and then what?"

"Too late." Logan's head dropped back and he propped himself against the counter. "I asked her to marry me last night." He looked over at Duncan, who remained slack-jawed and silent. "Don't worry, _sailor_, she said no, so you still have a chance to take a crack at her."

_And I have no doubt you'll try._

"Come on. I don't..." Duncan looked disappointed by the slam and downed the rest of his beer.

Logan expelled a puff of air that sounded a bit like a broken laugh. He felt broken. "Actually, she didn't say no, but she didn't say yes either. I believe her exact words were 'not no'. And when she answered, the heavens opened up and showered us with rose petals, and the angels sang hymns in recognition of our love." He shot his friend a grim look. "Maybe you had to be there?"

Duncan shuffled over to the counter where Logan was sitting and pushed himself up next to him. "You know how she is, man. She's like...those water snake toys we used to play with when we were kids. The harder you grip onto it, the harder it is to hold onto. You just need to let go and trust her."

"Water snakes." He smiled at the memory. "Remember when we were twelve? Lilly used to like to hold one of those in her hand and pretend that she was jerking it off. Veronica would always run away screaming in horror."

"That's when Lilly would always add those gross sound effects."

Logan nodded. "She always had to take things a step too far."

Duncan playfully knocked into his friend's side. "You should be pissed at me, not Veronica. You've done worse to her then tell a sad ex-boyfriend you'd consider kissing them before they went into lock-up. Compared to you, Veronica is a paragon of virtue, and you know it."

He really couldn't argue with that, so he didn't.

"This isn't about that anyway, is it? It's about her saying no to you."

Logan held up a finger in protest. "It was 'not no'."

_...which is still a 'no'._

"She's pretty direct, Lo. If she didn't want to marry you, she would've just plain old told you 'no'." Duncan wiped a hand over his mouth. "Do you know what I'd give to get a 'not no' out of Veronica? You've just got to be patient with her, you know how hard it is for her to let herself depend on people."

The pressure behind his eyes was getting intense, but Logan fought off the urge to cry. "She's all I have. Like, _literally_, all I have, and I love her so much. I never stopped. Ever."

"I'm familiar with the feeling."

"Ronnie's been acting weird lately. I don't know what it is, but she's been different this past week. Maybe it's all of the Leo stuff finally coming home to roost? I don't know." Logan hopped off the counter and began pacing again. "Of course, it had to be the only decent guy in this fucked up town that took the hit for her. It couldn't have been someone unworthy of a vendetta."

Logan thought about Leo selling him Lilly's sex tapes for $50 grand - a drop in the bucket compared to what a gossip rag would have paid for them - and the guy did it solely to put his disabled sister through school. Proof that karma did get some things wrong occasionally.

"She's investigating the case, of course, even though she's on the hit list herself...even though she's still struggling with the PTSD from her last Fed case...even though she fucking promised me she'd take a break from it to work on our relationship..."

Duncan slipped off of the counter top and made his way over to the fridge to fetch two more beers. "Is that why Connor Larkin was here yesterday? Is he somehow involved?"

"Connor Larkin was in my house?"

_Every time I think we've taken a step forward, we slide three steps back._

The hair on the back of Logan's neck rose to attention and a harsh realization finally hit him. She lied to him. She was taking clients on the sly, right under his fucking nose. He felt like a cuckold.

_Veronica lied._

She wasn't an alcoholic like her mother, but she was a junkie just the same - and like any junkie, she lied every time her lips were moving. After 17 years of living with a woman with demons, he was sure it would probably kill him to do it again - yet – he knew he couldn't live without her.

_Catch-22 isn't just a novel by Joseph Heller._

Ignoring Duncan's earlier question, Logan pulled his phone from his pocket. "How about we give Alicia a call to babysit, and then blow this Popsicle stand? I'm feeling a bit parched."

* * *

**A/N - Oh, poor self-destructive Logan. He can't help but shoot himself in the foot, can he? Lots of things in store for Duncan, so keep your eyes peeled for that. He'll be crushing on somebody new soon (not an inmate - LOL!), so Veronica won't have to suffer too many more awkward passes.**

**Things look fishy with Mac's evening with Petrenko? They should. Dick may do a little digging soon.**

**What did you all think of Molly? **

**Please let me know what you thought of this chapter - I tried to give you a little of everything in this one. I always get very excited when I read all of your comments and reviews - even the short ones - so please chime in if you have the time :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**MONSTER CHAPTER ALERT! Okay, there aren't any monsters (unless you count mentions of Petrenko & Madison), but this one is long, and the scene you've all been waiting on pins and needles is here, so brace yourselves!**

**PS - Thanks again for the reviews! They really prompted me to get this chapter out faster. Thank you! So so happy to get everybody's take on the story. It really is amazing how many things you all pick out that are different from each other. It's like Rashomon...or that episode of 'South Park' involving fishsticks :)**

* * *

Previously: Mac did the walk of shame back to her apartment after her date with Petrenko. Dick became suspicious that she'd been drugged and date raped. It was revealed that Clarence was the one who summoned Mac to the bathroom via her drink (whether or not he or Petrenko is responsible for the drugs, we don't know yet). CW asked tried to involve Mac in corporate espionage, which she agreed to, under the condition that he protect her AND Dick. Keith, Veronica and Weevil went to The River Stix to investigate the pool table and see if they could find anybody who had knowledge of the attacks. Molly Fitzpatrick, who revamped the bar, traded info with Veronica about her uncles, and revealed that she hadn't spoken to Liam since he'd gone to jail, because of what he did to Felix. She still speaks to Danny and Uncle (Father) Patrick, whom she is pissed off is in jail. Weevil had a strange, tense moment with Molly. Duncan brought the remainder of Lilly's stuff over to LoVe's house, and unburdened himself about hitting on Veronica, which only burdened Logan with crippling insecurities. He also let it slip that Veronica had taken on Connor as a client. Angry he'd been lied to, Logan goes on a bender with Duncan, who leaves in the morning for prison.

* * *

**CHAPTER 7**

Eli Navarro took off toward the parking lot as fast as his legs would get him there. He knew he wasn't fooling anyone, especially Veronica, but that didn't mean he felt like chatting about it either.

"What was that?" Veronica asked, skipping to catch up with him as she signaled to her dad that she'd be going with Weevil.

_Keep walking, man. If she corners you, she's just going to open your head up like a piñata and sift through your brains until she finds what she's looking for._

Knowing what her expression would be, Weevil didn't even bother looking over his shoulder. "Que?"

Finally meeting his pace, she latched onto his arm to slow him down. "Oh come on. Playing dumb was never your strong suit."

He _really_ did not want to have this conversation, but unfortunately for him and the marks they went after, his partner had even more tenacity than her pit bull. "What do you think you know?"

_I really want to know, because even I ain't got a fucking clue what just happened inside._

She pretended to deliberate. "Well...I know, is that if the sexual tension in there were any thicker, you could slice it up and sell it for lunch meat."

Weevil slowed his gait to a standstill and smirked at her. "You want me to feed you, don't you?"

"Desperately, but I was just using that as a metaphor." She tried to look innocent. "But I really do want to eat."

He looked unimpressed.

"Fine!" She threw her hands in the air. "You want me to spell it out for you?"

"I think you're gonna have to." He pulled his keys from his pocket and unlocked the wheels of his bike.

"You and Molly. Something happened between you, right?" She stood next to him with a self-satisfied grin on her face, tapping her foot against the pavement like an irritated girlfriend.

"Nope."

_I don't know._

Veronica's whole body contracted in frustration and she stomped her foot. "Liar!"

"Come on, Vee, she's Felix's girl. He was my best friend," he said, figuring that would explain everything he needed to say on the matter.

A grin formed on Veronica's face, like she'd figured out the punchline to a joke he didn't get. "Yeah, well Logan was Lilly's boyfriend, and she was _my_ best friend. You see, the thing about dead people, they don't make the greatest boyfriends. Plus, they kind of just lie there in bed, like a corpse."

_She has an answer for everything!_

Weevil looked like he'd bitten into a lemon. "I don't know which part of that whole speech I found the most disturbing."

"I do..." She folded her arms over her chest and waggled her eyebrows at him. "Don't tell me you haven't thought about it."

_Thought about it? Yeah, I've got eyes and she's got an ass that won't quit. That still don't make her any less Felix's girl._

* * *

_Flashback._

_Weevil stood in front of Molly's lunch table and glowered at her, barely able to keep the rage he was feeling in check. It wasn't in his nature to intimidate women, but as far as he was concerned, she was a Fitzpatrick, and that overrode everything else. "Strange, isn't it? That the key witness was some guy under your uncle's thumb? What pisses me off is that I think lovin' you cost Felix his life. Seems to me you never gave a damn about him."_

_For the first time ever, Molly looked small to him. She was always all brash and flash, that he'd sometimes forgotten that she was really just a teenage girl underneath it all. "I loved him."_

_Something about her declaration of love really stuck in Weevil's craw. Love? How could she claim she loved Felix and then act like he'd never existed before the body even grew cold? Wouldn't somebody in love want justice? Revenge? He sure as hell did. He was torn up for months when Lilly was murdered, and she wasn't even officially his to grieve. _

_Weevil leaned forward and got in her face. "No, I LOVED HIM!"_

_Molly recoiled at the force of Weevil's reply, drawing attention and stares from the other kids eating lunch around them. He was too pissed off to care. This deluded bitch needed somebody to tell her what was up, and he was the only man for the job. "And you know how you can tell? 'Cause I'm the one who cares enough to keep tryin' to find out who killed him."_

_Weevil stormed off before Molly could get in another word._

* * *

"I haven't seen her in years, Vee, and the last real conversation I had with her involved me screaming insults in her face in the middle of the quad in high school. We weren't exactly holding hands over a malted." Weevil shook his head. "Yeah, there's no love lost there."

Veronica's lips pursed, barely able to contain her enjoyment of his discomfort. "I remember a time when Logan used to insult me in the middle of the Neptune High quad. He likes to think of that time in our lives as foreplay."

_Chingada Madre! She draws any more parallels between Felix and Lilly and we're gonna have highway lanes out here._

Weevil groaned in disgust. "You and Echolls have something seriously wrong with you. I ain't interested in knowing anything about what the two of you do. Especially him."

"Yeah well, it might be a good idea for you to try to rekindle your 'association' with her. Maybe you can get close enough to figure out what her family's up to?"

"Or maybe she'll toss a drink in my face and those methhead Micks who hang out in her joint will use my skull as a crack pipe?"

Veronica groaned her frustration. "It's not like it would be a hardship. You can't deny she's hot."

His mouth pressed into a flat line and he stared intently at his friend. "She's a traitorous bitch, Vee. I'm not down with chicks like that."

_Speaking of which, maybe I should start thinking about getting that Lilly tattoo removed? It's fucking time._

"She did come through for Felix in the end..." She forced a sunny smile.

"Yeah, after putting your boy through the ringer." He nudged veronica's shoulder with his finger. "I'm surprised you even want me anywhere near her. I figured you woulda had me cubing her car 'just for funsies'," he said, mocking Veronica's voice.

_I woulda done it for free, too._

She grabbed the edge of his sleeve and he looked down at her hand with annoyance. "Play on her guilt. Just get close enough to gain her trust."

He shook her off of him. "That ain't gonna happen."

Veronica climbed onto his bike seat to prevent him from leaving. He was going to have remind himself to screw with her at some point in the near future.

Weevil closed his eyes in order to quell his exasperation. "Never get between a man and his bike."

She grabbed one of his hands and her worried eyes surveyed his face. "Do you not care about me at all, Weevil? Don't you care about my dad?"

_Shit. My girl knows where to land those punches._

His posture slumped and hissed out a long breath, his body language radiating defeat. How was he supposed to counter that? She always knew the right ace to flick to make the house of cards collapse in a heap. "This one is going to cost you. Big time."

She raised an eyebrow in his direction. "We're still pretending to do that?"

Weevil grabbed a helmet and wedged it on top of Veronica's head. "Come on, shortie. You can start by buying me an early dinner."

* * *

Mac and Dick spent the entire morning napping on her couch, or at least one of them did.

Being a heavy snoozer, Mac had descended in something Dick almost assumed to be a deep coma, and then spent the entire time staring at her to make sure she was still breathing. He also did some hard thinking.

Something was off with the way Mac's evening went down, he was sure of it. He needed to find a way to figure out exactly what happened to her, because there was no way in hell he planned to let her show up at Alexicon on Monday morning if she'd spent the weekend getting date raped by her boss.

_I know she's gonna protest and crap, but I'll go caveman on her if I have to. _

Dick quietly climbed over Mac's prone body and grabbed his mobile phone off of the breakfast bar. He scrolled down to 'V' in his contact book and walked into the hallway, so he wouldn't disturb her.

After several rings, the line connected, but all he could hear was a labored sigh coming from the other end of the line. "Ronnie?"

"Dick."

He switched the phone to his other ear and angled his body so he could still keep an eye on Mac. "I need your help."

Veronica sighed again. "Look, I'd love to help...actually, we both know that's not true, but I would _probably_ help if I felt like it, which I don't."

"It's not for me, it's for Mac."

There was a moment of silence at the other end of the line. "Why isn't she calling me herself?"

He took a few more steps into the hallway. "I don't think she realizes something went down, yet."

"Okay, just to clarify: Mac, who graduated summa cum laude from Hearst is totally oblivious to something that's happened to her, but Dick Casablancas, the jackass who thought that the movie '2 Fast 2 Furious' was based on a novel, is the great detective who has managed to figure it all out? Did I get that right?"

He didn't give a shit what Veronica thought of him, so he let it roll off his back for the sake of expediency. "Yep. So can you come over?"

"Now?"

"No, next week. Why the fuck do you think I'm calling you?" He rolled his eyes out of habit.

The phone sounded muffled, like she'd cupped the mouthpiece with her hand, and he could hear animated murmuring in the background until her hand slipped off again. She cleared her throat before answering. "Fine. I can be there in 15 minutes, but you had better have food at your house, because I'm giving up a cheeseburger for this."

Dick smiled and took a cleansing breath. "Great. But, uh, I'm not at my house. I'm at Mac's."

"Uh..." He could tell she was about to ask why he was there but quickly changed her mind. "Yeah. See you there."

"Oh hey! Ronnie!" He lowered his voice to a whisper. "You remember those strips you used that night at the Grand to test me for being roofied? Bring some of those."

"...okay." Her voice was shaky and he kicked himself for not easing her into the possible bad news in a nicer way. "But after that, I just...I have to go home." She immediately disconnected the line.

_I have to go home._

Dick stared at the phone and his mind drifted.

* * *

"_I have to go home." Veronica whimpered as Dick brought another shot glass to her lips and coaxed her to drink from it._

_He snickered, exchanging mocking glances with Sean and Beaver. "You are home."_

* * *

Dick flashed back to that night at Shelly's house, how he tortured Ronnie, laughing his ass off every time she begged to go home. It wasn't a proud moment and the memory of it had been relentlessly been playing in his head on a loop since his suspicions about Mac's sketchy evening first began.

The rage that Dick was feeling about Mac was quickly replaced by another strong emotion: guilt.

Eight years ago, he was a guy who thought taking advantage of drunk chicks was okay. He had actually convinced himself that those girls only picked up a glass so they'd have an excuse to do all of the slutty stuff they deep down wanted to do but were too chicken to try while sober. He was just helping them on their journey into womanhood.

He thought about a teenage Veronica, pristine and innocent in her white flowing dress, and all of the horrible things he did to her while she was drugged. She didn't want any part of what he was offering, but that didn't stop him and his friends from having a little fun with her. He fed shots to an incapacitated girl and forced her into doing things she'd never even consider normally.

He now called this girl a friend – even if she didn't return the sentiment – and that made it even worse. He could even begin to imagine what Logan would do if he caught anybody screwing with Ronnie like that now, but then again, Logan was the dude who turned her into a salt lick that night, so who was he to judge?

_I'm shocked she even speaks to either of us._

The memories flooded his brain, making him feel weak.

If Alexei had done even 10% of the disgusting stuff that Dick and his buddies did to Veronica that night, he'd grab every gun from his shooting range and hunt the guy down, El Mariachi style. Yeah, he was a kid at the time, but there's no way he could give himself a pass for all of that. It was too damn depraved. At some point, that kind of behavior seemed okay to him, normal even, and he wondered if he and Beaver weren't as different as he thought.

_It's un-fucking-believable that I did that shit to Ronnie. _

Dick watched over Mac, who was still sleeping soundly on the couch. "Help is on its way."

* * *

_Flashback._

_Mac swallowed thickly and gamely raised her shot glass. "What are we drinking to?"_

_Dick's laugh was genuine this time. "Let's drink to douchebaggery. Something I'm a little bit of an expert in," he spat out before taking down the shot._

_"To douchebaggery," Mac repeated, echoing his performance. The pale amber liquid burned as it went down, but she welcomed the discomfort. She deserved it._

_Dick smiled sadly. "You're so cool, Mac," he said earnestly as he fidgeted with the cap of the bottle._

_She steadied his hand with her own and lowered her head to look in his eyes. "What's going on with you, Dick?"_

_He pulled his hand away and swiped his nose with the back of it. "I know Beaver raped Ronnie, okay? I mean, I didn't at the time obviously, but I get it now."_

_"He also killed a lot of people. Does him raping Veronica honestly make him that much worse in your eyes?" she asked, already knowing the answer._

_Dick's eyes welled with tears and he let them roll down his cheeks, unashamed. "Come on," he rasped, urging her not to treat him with kid gloves._

_Mac took a deep breath and poured them both another round. "I know you blame yourself because you teased him a lot about sex, but just like the bus crash, what he did that night was not your fault."_

_Dick rubbed his hands roughly over his face. "You don't get it Mac, this was completely my fault."_

* * *

The phone dropped from Dick's hands and shattered against the wood floor in the hallway.

_Oh fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!_

He fell to his knees to pick up the pieces of the phone, but his hands were shaking too much to function properly, so he left it alone and pulled himself back up to stand.

_Holy shit, dude! Beaver raped her that night._

When he tossed those condoms at Cassidy and told him to go to town, he and Sean were laughing about it, calling Beav a pussy. They took bets on how long it would take until he ended up in fetal position, crying in the corner.

Dick's head hurt. The amount of thinking he'd done in the last 12 hours was enough to give anybody a migraine, but this was something else. Dick tipped his head forward against the wall with a thwack. These memories were coming out of nowhere, but he was the one remembering them, so it had to be real.

_That's why she changed. She got raped and then turned into the scariest woman I've ever met, and it was my fault._

The feeling of deja vu was intense, but at the same time, he couldn't remember ever having known about it before.

_How do I know this? How do I know she was raped?_

His forehead bunched and he had a hazy flash of memory, something involving tequila.

* * *

Veronica was uncharacteristically quiet as she approached her best friend's apartment. The subject of date rape – or in her own case, getting gang banged - was not one she liked to dwell on, but it was part of her ancient past, as well as her recent past, and now, it looked like it might be a part of her near future.

She rapped on the door sharply and waited for somebody to answer.

_God, I hope Dick is just being his normal stupid self and blowing this out of proportion._

The sound of heavy footsteps bounding toward the front door clued her in who whom she's was going to have to face first. Dick Casablancas, though somewhat reformed, was about the last person she wanted to encounter while investigating a possible rape.

"Oh man, that was quick." He smiled with relief at her, and touched her with gentle care, before ushering her inside. "I really appreciate this, Ronnie. Seriously."

_Who would've thought there would ever be a time when Dick Casablancas would be the guy trying to rescue a girl who'd been roofied? _

"_You _really appreciate it?"

"I do. She's been sleeping all day and I'm kinda getting a little freaked out here. I keep, like, holding up a mirror in front of her nose, just to make sure she's still breathing."

She followed him into the living room where Mac still slept. Dick stood over her protectively from the end of the couch as he waved Veronica over.

It was then when she noticed his red-rimmed eyes. "Are you - - your eyes are red, have you been crying, Dick?"

He looked ashamed, and quickly diverted his eyes to the floor.

_He's crying over Mac? Please tell me it's not guilt._

A wave of nausea overcame Veronica and she gripped the back of the couch. "You didn't dose her, right? You're not the one who drugged her?"

He chuckled bitterly and smoothed the fringe on the edge of Mac's rug with his bare foot. "Would I have freaked out and called you to come over, if I'd been the guy? I know you think I'm an idiot, but you can't think I'd date rape her and then call you of all people to chat about it?"

It was stupid, she knew, but she couldn't help getting a shot in anyway. "I really don't know what you're capable of, _Dick," _she said in a measured voice.

He nodded somberly and took a step back so Veronica could pass. "I get it, and it's cool. I wouldn't trust my ass either if I were you."

_This sounds a lot like remorse. What the fuck? Am I in an alternate universe?_

Veronica froze, her understanding of the situation finally coming into focus. She knew that Mac told Dick about her rape in Carmel. He knew about it and then promptly forgot it after the car accident.

_Is everything coming back now?_

Her eyes met his. "You remember now, don't you? You remember what Mac told you in the car."

Dick shifted on his feet and trembled as his emotions took hold. "Yeah."

_Crap. He looks terrible. I almost feel sorry for him. But come on! Why should I feel sorry for him? He's the jackass who inadvertently ruined my life._

"It just hit me, while we were getting off the phone. You said something to me about wanting to go home and I just..." He shook his head. "I don't know how you even look at me."

Veronica felt faint. This was the confrontation she'd both craved and dreaded over the past few years, but he was Logan's only family, and even though she hated Dick, she loved Logan more, so she put up with him. "It hasn't always been easy."

"What happened?" His blue eyes looked childlike and earnest, and she could feel her resolve to punish him crumbling. "At Shelley's that night?"

"Your lovely girlfriend at the time gave me a 'Trip to the Dentist'."

"She never took the GHB?" Dick grabbed a handful of his own hair and squeezed. "That explains why she was still such a bitch later that night."

"You tried to drug your own girlfriend. Even Madison, who is basically one of Cinderella's evil step-sisters, doesn't deserve to get dosed by her boyfriend, just because he wants her to 'loosen up'." Her face was so tight, the muscles in her cheeks started to ache.

"I've got no excuse for anything I did that night." He struggled to keep eye contact. "But if I could take back what I did, the way I treated you, I would do it." He started to choke up. "I'm so sorry, Ronnie. Really, I'm so so sorry..."

Veronica felt something damp on her cheek and realized that she had been crying too. She always thought it would be the height of her shame to let Dick see her cry about this, but something about it felt cathartic.

_I think I feel a little bit better. I always thought his apology wouldn't matter to me, but it kind of does. A lot._

"Thank you." At her words, Dick smiled. "Just know, that if you ever hurt Mac, I won't be nearly as forgiving."

Dick walked around the couch, and before Veronica could stop him, he lifted her into his arms and embraced her tightly.

"Dick!" She tried to hit his arms, but hers were trapped next to her body beneath his. "I can't breathe!"

It was probably an emotional release or even joy, but something involuntary made Veronica burst out in raucous laughter.

Her giggles were infectious and Dick quickly caught the bug, only just setting her on her feet before convulsing beside her.

"I'm totally serious about Mac," she said between guffaws. "I will make you beg for the sweet embrace of death if you give her even one day of unhappiness. You know I'm capable, too."

"Oh, I know." He wiped his eyes on the bottom of his t-shirt and continued chuckling. "Pound for pound, you are the scariest motherfucker in Southern California, Ronnie. Always have been."

_Maybe he's not the devil's spawn after all. Maybe he's simply a run-of-the-mill douchebag? Logan was one of those and he got over it. Maybe Mac isn't as doomed as I thought?_

She regulated her breath and looked up at him slyly. "Thank you, Richard. That might be the nicest thing you've ever said to me."

"Will you two kiss already and get it over with?" a voice called from the depths of the couch.

"You're up!" Dick rushed around to the other side of the couch again and knelt by Mac's side. "Are you okay? I thought you might've died. Do you want a glass of water?"

Mac stretched, still in a daze from her long slumber. "All I heard was water, and yeah. I feel like I swallowed the Gobi Desert."

He stroked her hair for a minute and then nodded. "I got ya."

He immediately left for the kitchen and Veronica looked at Mac with amusement. "That's interesting. I didn't realize you'd taken on an indentured servant."

"I saved his life. He's working off his life debt to me," Mac said, stretching her limbs once more. "He's like my own personal Tonto."

Veronica leaned over the back of the couch to face her friend. "First of all, Tonto was not the Lone Ranger's serf. Secondly, Tonto means stupid in Spanish," she paused long enough for Mac to flip her off. "And thirdly, I don't remember the Lone Ranger checking out Tonto's ass as he walked away."

Mac blushed and buried her head under a throw pillow. "Maybe you got the edited version then, because in the one that I saw, Tonto got on his knees and..." At that moment, the girls noticed Dick standing nearby, holding a glass of water.

"Why are you stopping? This was just getting good?" He brought the water to Mac and helped her sit up to drink it.

_Jesus. Dick really does like Mac. I can't believe he doesn't remember fooling around with her. I would pay good money to see the moment he remembers that night._

"Well aren't you just a regular Florence Nightingale?" Veronica smiled at Dick. "Now move over, so I can swab her tongue."

"Porque?" Mac was confused.

"I'd let Dick explain, but it would probably take too long. Long story short, your Russian oligarch could be more than just a kidnapper, blackmailer and attempted murderer. Your little admirer over there thinks you were roofied last night." Mac's eyes widened in fear and realization. "Why don't you send loverboy into the kitchen or something to make me some food, and I'll give you the test?"

Mac looked up at Dick expectantly. "No problemo. I'm on it. You hungry, too?"

She nodded. "Remember, I don't eat anything with eyes."

Dick tapped his head and walked off.

_And now...the hard part._

"Look, your mouth isn't the only place I'm going to swab." Veronica gave her a look that cleared up the mystery of _where_ pretty quickly.

Mac gulped another sip of water and wiped the sleep from her eyes. "Well, if I needed something to shock me out of my stupor...are you really sure this is necessary?"

"Well, do you want to know if you got busy with Katya's daddy last night or do you want to wonder about it for the rest of your life?

"I already showered," she said apologetically.

Veronica pulled out a long swab, the kind used for throat cultures and pap smears. "Where we're going, we don't need roads."

"Huh?"

"I just always wanted to say that...though I didn't really think I'd be saying it about your vagina." She removed a giant UV flashlight from her bag and held it up for Mac to see. "Semen is very phosphorescent. Vaginal fluid is not."

Mac's face scrunched up. "Oh my God, just do it already and stop talking about it." She fell back down onto her back and shimmied out of her pants under the throw blanket. "And we never talk of this day again. It never happened!"

"Trust me. Not something I'm eager to relive either." Veronica turned on the flashlight and held the edge of the throw, then reached for the sterile swab packet and lifted the edge of the chenille. "I'm going in."

Mac covered both of her eyes with her hands and Veronica ducked under the throw.

After a few minutes, Mac began to shift uncomfortably. "Are you mining for gold in there or something? Come up for air, already."

Veronica emerged from the blanket with a broad smile on her face. "Nada." She dunked the swab in a solution-filled beaker and gave it a shake.

Mac looked at her with cautious optimism as she pulled her pants back on. "Explain?"

"No bruising, no tearing, no signs of trauma or redness, and no evidence of semen." Veronica exhaled her relief. "There is, however, evidence of a Brazilian wax, you saucy minx. I really didn't peg you for the type."

"I have a hickey on my chest," she revealed.

"Well, it looks as though he didn't go South of there." Veronica pulled out a packet of litmus paper and lifted one of the sheets out. "Open wide." Mac complied, sticking her tongue out for Veronica to wipe it.

They'd both administered and taken this test a lot during the Hearst campus rapes, so it was old hat by now. "Hey, remember when we tried to show Parker how to do this and she thought it was gum?"

"Yeah, and you didn't correct her." Mac started to laugh and took a swipe at Veronica's arm, but missed, her balance still off kilter from her slumber. "Why do you always do that whenever you put that thing in my mouth?"

"That's what she said!" Dick sang from across the room, eliciting groans from both women. "What? It was begging to be said, and you were all thinking it."

Veronica pulled out several vials of solution and put a drop each of them along the strip. "Somebody is going to owe royalties to Paulie Shore if he keeps this up..."

"Ha. Paulie Shore owes me royalties...well, he would if he'd worked at all in the last decade." Dick took a sip of his beer and brought a glass of soda to Veronica.

She looked down at the open glass of soda and hesitated, then made the decision to drink and brought it to her lips.

_Oh God! I think I'm starting to forgive him._

"Thank you, Dick." She looked down at the litmus strip to read the results of the test.

Mac eyes moved back and forth between her two friends. "This is weird."

"You know what else is weird?" Veronica asked, as she rose to her feet. "That a hot-looking billionaire who could basically fuck anybody he wanted, resorted to putting Ketamine in your drink last night, just to get laid."

Dick's hand gripped the bottleneck of his beer so hard, Veronica thought it might shatter. "That cocksucker drugged and raped her?" He was practically vibrating with anger, so she extricated the beer from his fingertips to avoid any injuries.

"Drugged? Yes. Raped? No." She gave him a reassuring head nod.

His whole body turned to jello and he collapsed next to Mac on the couch. "Holy shit you gave me a heart attack."

_Wow. I've never seen him like this about a woman before._

Mac was bemused. "I did?"

"Yeah. So, like, don't do that again, okay?" He gave her a stern look, but his eyes were twinkling with affection.

"Don't get drugged with Special K?" she asked, her brows close in thought. "I will try my very best."

"No. Don't go out again with him. Better yet, don't go out with anybody." His eyes settled on Mac's and her breath caught in her throat.

_Things are getting real up in this house! I need a quick getaway before they start humping on my messenger bag. I have important things in there._

Mac didn't understand what Dick was implying. "You want me to stay celibate?"

"For the love of God, Mac! The boy wants to date you!" Veronica screamed through cupped hands. "I know you spend a lot of time in the computer lab, but _my God_ you can really be dense."

"You want to date me?" she asked Dick, the corners of her mouth beginning to turn up. He confirmed with a non-committal shrug. "I will give it some serious thought."

He shook his head. "Fuck that. You know you want to go out with me, so why are you torturing yourself with the idea of dating those other losers? You may as well skip to the good stuff." He ran a hand over his chest.

She smiled coyly at him. "Just so we're on the same page, you're the good stuff?"

Feeling the air change, Veronica quickly collected her things and backed slowly out of the room.

"Where are you going?" Mac called out. "You didn't even give me a chance to thank you!"

"Rain check!" Veronica called from the hallway.

"I was gonna cook for you!" Dick bellowed.

She had now disappeared from sight completely. "Not hungry!"

"Bullshit!" Both Mac and Dick screamed at the same time, and Veronica shut the front door of the apartment behind her.

* * *

Logan stumbled into his bedroom at 3am and immediately walked straight into the glass wall.

_Was that there earlier?_

"Fuck!" he slurred a bit too loudly, and a rustling sound started from the other side of the room.

His eyes were drawn to a familiar lump in the middle of the bed, which brought him immediate relief. He knew it was irrational, but seeing Veronica lying in their bed every day, still with her bags unpacked, was like a fresh victory.

"Bobcat..." As he got closer to the bed, he noticed a second lump curled next to the larger one and he smiled.

Wrapped up in each other, she and Lilly made a beautiful picture. It was almost hard from him to remember what he was so pissed off about earlier.

_My two favorite pint-sized blondes._

"Lo?" A voice whispered from the dark. "Is that you?"

Getting blotto sounded like a fantastic idea hours earlier, but now skulking into his bedroom like a guilty teenager on a bender made him feel like a fool. He scrunched his eyes hard and tried to get the room to stop spinning. "What are you still doing up?

Fresh from a bath, her frame overwhelmed in one of his Hearst t-shirts, Veronica carefully untangled herself from Lilly's grasp. "I couldn't sleep. You know how it is when you're not here...the nightmares..."

He had forgotten about the insomnia. She hadn't slept well for months until they'd gotten together. In the past, her nightmares usually involved hunting knives and bloody blocks of wood, but now he'd be willing to bet she saw Leo's face whenever she closed her eyes. "Why didn't you take one of your Xanax?"

Veronica looked down at the tiny form next to her – whose chest softly rose and fell with each breath – and tucked the covers around her. "I didn't want to be out cold, in case she needed me. She was really upset when Duncan wasn't here to tuck her in."

_Oh crap. Donut is going to kick himself for that when he sobers up._

The dull ache coursing through Logan's body migrated to his gut. He hated that he was always so single-minded in his pain, never looking beyond the end of the couch. "Oh."

Logan tripped while trying to take his shoes off mid-stride, but regained his bearings.

"You seem really drunk." She added no other qualifier, but the disappointment was clear in her voice.

"Not as drunk as Duncan." He knew that made no difference at all to her, they had both acted like assholes tonight.

She lowered her voice. "Well, he has a reason to drown his sorrows."

_Aha. He can do no wrong, and I'm the anti-Christ. I forgot about that._

"But I don't, right?" He let the sentence hang in the air, hoping she'd pick up on the implication.

"No. You don't." Veronica gingerly inched her body to the edge of the bed and stepped into a pair of white bunny slippers. "Come on. Let's get you some Aspirin and a glass of water."

She padded over to the center of the room and stopped immediately in front of him, silently surveying his current condition. "Whatever I did that brought you to this place..."

Logan was taken aback, both physically and otherwise. "How do you know it was something you did?"

"Your mother is dead and so is Lilly. I'm the only one left who's capable of driving you to a 'Leaving Las Vegas' level of binge-drinking." She wasn't sugar-coating it, it wasn't her style.

_Never thought about it that way. The other thing all of you ladies have in common is that you left me. Dysfunction abounds._

But she didn't leave this time, he reminded himself. Not yet anyway.

"Yeah."

Veronica's face reflected his sadness, and he wondered if it was empathy or something more. "I'm so sorry."

He scratched the back of his neck, for lack of anything else to do with his hands. "You don't even know what it is yet. How do you know if you're sorry?"

She swallowed hard and her chest heaved slowly with each breath she took. "Does it matter? If I did something that made you do _this_," she gestured the length of his body, "to yourself, then I'm sorry. I'd imagine that you'd have to be feeling pretty miserable to get to this point. I hate that I have that effect on you. I just hate it." She buried her face in her hands and sighed heavily. "I missed you so much tonight."

_She missed me? _

Logan's stomach clenched and he wondered how his state of mind could be so symbiotically tied to Veronica's whims and moods. He'd have to call his therapist in the morning to discuss that, but all he could do at the moment was react.

"I missed you too." He pulled her hands from her face and swept her up into a tight embrace, pressing her body painfully into his own in a futile attempt to absorb her, to be one like a chimera.

Veronica's arms snaked around his neck and she held on just as tightly. "Come on," she whispered into his ear, urging him to release her to the ground. She bent over and removed his other shoe for him, tossing both of them under the bed, and lead him to the master bathroom by his hand.

The bathroom light clicked onto the lowest setting, and Veronica ushered Logan inside. She corralled him over to the counter top, and he followed like an obedient child.

Her hand caressed the side of his face as she examined it for bruises, and he leaned into the warmth of her palm. "I really thought you were going to come home with a black eye or something."

_Of course you did. Way to keep the faith, Mars._

Logan bristled at the assumption. "Nope. Just completely shitfaced."

She pulled open the top drawer of the sink cabinet and rummaged through it. "How can somebody be so tidy and so messy at the same time?"

_Easy, I'm tidy on the outside, but a huge fucking mess on the inside. Voila! A metaphor you can actually put your hands on._

"Amazing as it is, I've actually managed to whittle my myriad of vices down to two."

"Oh yeah?" Veronica retrieved a small bottle of pain medication and closed the drawer. "What's the other one?"

He cleared his throat and stared at her auspiciously.

"Oh." She lifted his open palm and tapped out two pills into it. "Let me get you a glass of water."

_What? Nothing to say? Shocker._

Before she could reach behind him for the glass, he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to the empty space in-between his legs. "Do you love me?"

Her eyes closed in frustration. "Are you asking because I don't make you feel loved or because I did something that makes you doubt that?"

_BOTH!_

Instead of answering her question, Logan popped the pills into his mouth and swallowed them both dry.

"I see." She shoved the pill bottle back into the drawer and slammed it shut. "Well, I don't know about you, but I feel like we're really rocking the hell out of this whole 'communication' thing."

Logan may have been too wasted to drive, but he was still sober enough to banter. "'The single biggest problem with communication is the illusion that it has taken place'. George Bernard Shaw."

"Funny how you're too drunk to tell me why you're upset, but you still have the ability to recall subject-appropriate quotes. It's good to have a talent."

"What's your talent, buttercup?" He looked at her hungrily, despite his ire...or possibly because of it.

_Besides that thing you do with your mouth when you're - -_

She shrugged. "Poker."

"You're good at playing poker, because lying is second nature to you."

Veronica's face dropped and he felt both satisfied and guilty to have landed a direct hit on his first try. "You really think that?"

_No. Yes? Only on days that end in a 'Y'?_

He kept his tone light, but the darkness was rolling off of him in waves. "It takes a certain talent for being able to snow the people who know and love you best. Not everybody has the stomach for it."

"I don't want to lie to you."

"Anymore," he corrected, tapping the end of her nose.

"I keep secrets, it's what I do, but I know it's not right. I just - I don't know. I'm so used to keeping things close to the vest out of necessity, that it's hard for me to let it go." She tried to twist her hair into a bun, but it tumbled out of the knot the second she let go. "I'll tell you whatever you want to know."

Logan smoothed her hair back with both of his hands and tucked the errant strands behind her ears. "I want to know everything, obviously."

She nodded, staring at a point in the center of his chest. "Yeah."

_Am I drunker than I thought or did Ronnie just say she's going to be honest with me?_

He couldn't have been happier if she'd handed him a blank check. "You're helping your dad with the bomber investigation?"

"Yes, but you already know that."

"Did you go off on your own today? Do anything risky?"

She shook her head and he sighed his relief. At least she seemed to have learned her lesson in that regard, though he suspected it had more to do with the FBI debacle, and less with honoring his wishes. "Why was Connor Larkin here yesterday?"

Veronica opened her mouth to speak and then promptly closed it.

_Fuck. She's already shutting down and we're only a few questions in._

"He's a client, isn't he?" Logan reached forward and tipped her chin up to force eye contact.

Her breathing sped up again. "Yes, he's a client. My only client."

He let his head drop back and exhaled something similar to a moan. "You broke your promise."

She nodded and fingered the scar under her hairline unconsciously. "I did."

Logan laughed bitterly, unsure as to what he could possible find funny in all of this. "I trusted you! You said you came back for me, that you would take time off to work on our relationship. You're only willing to sacrifice when you have nothing to give up."

Veronica blanched from his attack and pulled herself out of his hold. "I've just been feeling so useless since the explosion."

"You almost died!"

"Leo did die! He died in my place! You don't know what that does to a person, Logan, how guilty I feel. This is so much worse than how I felt after Meg." She twisted her hands anxiously. "My last case for the FBI...well, you know how that ended. And then Leo...I felt like a failure. I took Connor's case, because I needed a win, something to prove to myself that I wasn't an abject failure at the only thing I've ever wanted to do with my life."

_I should have realized that's what this was about. Why do we keep crossing wires like this?_

Logan sobered up rapidly at her confession. He was so mad about the lies, it didn't occur to him to investigate her reasoning behind what she did...then again, she never volunteered that information either. This kind of shit just could not go on anymore, they had to get it together if they were going to make it.

He dug his hands into her hair and held her face in his palms. "Why didn't you tell me? Why don't you ever trust me enough to tell me these things?"

Now calm again, Veronica held her head high. "Because...because...I, uh, knew you'd try to stop me, and I didn't want to be stopped."

"I could've helped you, you know? We could have done this together, but you never let anybody help you." He expelled a shuddered breath. "I would've understood."

Veronica shook her head wildly, knocking his hands from her face. "No. No, you wouldn't have understood this time. You couldn't have."

Logan was back to being angry. The room may have stopped spinning, but the roller coaster ride she was taking him on was leaving him even dizzier than before. "Why? Is it because I lack compassion or because I don't 'get' what you're about?"

"That's not it. You just wouldn't have wanted me to do it this time."

He hopped off the counter and ran his hands through his hair. "Why?"

"Just because." Veronica looked frightened, but he'd already lost all patience with her.

_Dammit. She's lying to me again!_

"Is the case dangerous?"

"Maybe? I don't know yet."

He paced across the length of the bathroom, ranting almost to himself. "You thought I'd try to stop you because of your health?"

She stared at him blankly with a petrified expression seared into her face. "Yeah."

"Because of your ears?" Logan looked at her with confusion and it sudden hit him like a ton of bricks, knocking the wind out of him. He crossed the room and gathered in his arms. "There's something else wrong with you, isn't there? Something you're keeping from me?"

Veronica pressed her face into his chest, murmuring muffled words of sympathy and apology that he could barely understand. His heart beat so rapidly that he worried he might pass out, as an array of different scenarios, each more horrible than the next, cycled through his brain. She couldn't be sick, he wouldn't allow it.

_I take back everything I said before. I don't care if she holds me at arms length, as long as she's around to do it._

Logan pressed a kiss onto the top of her head twice and held her tighter. "You're scaring me, Ronnie. Please...please say something..." His voice was low and hoarse from emotion and he was barely able to keep his limbs from shaking as they clung to her like the last port in a storm. "My mind is going to a dark place right now. Say something."

"No, I'm..." She picked her head up and looked him in the eyes. "I'm...oh God," she took a breath and collected herself. "I'm pregnant."

He stared at her blankly, for so long that she began squirming under the weight of his gaze. Blue eyes blinked rapidly at him and she started to panic. "Logan?" She hiccuped air and covered her mouth. "Lo?"

_Uhh...how drunk am I?_

She shifted on her feet apprehensively as his stupor persisted. "I knew it." It was Veronica who was quiet now, resolute in her acceptance. "I knew you'd react like - -"

_She's pregnant? With MY baby!_

Before she could get the last word of her sentence out, Logan had her pressed up against the wall of the bathroom, his mouth descending on hers in frantic contact. "What are you-?" He kissed her again, and again, over and over again under she was gasping for air.

"I am so pissed off at you right now!" He dragged his lips down to her pulse point, and she arched against him on instinct.

"If this is pissed off, I'm going to - -"

He pulled his Hearst shirt roughly over her head and tossed it in the air, not caring where it landed.

"We should probably talk," she gasped, as he yanked her cotton panties to the ground.

"Later," he rasped, bringing his lips down to meet hers again.

The only thing he cared about was that Veronica was healthy and that she still loved him. She was here and warm and carrying a piece of him inside of her that would unite them together for the rest of their lives.

Wedding rings could be removed, but this was permanent, they would always be joined together by this baby. He would always have a family now.

_This is way better than a 'not no'. Hell, it's even better than a 'yes'. _

His mouth settled on her breast, letting his lips brush softly over her nipple as he gently stroked the other one with his thumb. "This is why you've been so sore," he said to himself, as if he'd finally worked out the answer to a riddle, and then mouthed his way down to her stomach.

Logan dropped soft, butterfly kisses over the expanse of her stomach, then pressed his cheek against her torso.

"Clearly, I was incorrect in my assumptions." Veronica beamed, seeming both pleased and a little mystified by his erratic turn-around. "I was positive you didn't want kids. You said you didn't want to be a father."

"I don't...or at least, I didn't." _Until I fell in love with you._

He closed his eyes as her hands pushed into his hair. "But you know how vain I am. Having a baby is the ultimate vanity project. So much better that writing my memoirs, and less work for me. You know how lazy I am."

She cuffed the side of his head lightly.

"Hey, retract claws, Bobcat, I was joking." His hand rubbed her stomach tentatively. "I can't believe there's somebody in there."

"Neither can I."

"But you're positive?" he asked, the idea of possibly losing what he never had settled on his chest and made him short of breath.

_I didn't even want a kid, and now I can't live without one?_

"Yeah. I had a blood test. I haven't had a sonogram yet though. I guess I wasn't ready for it all to be real." Veronica's nails raked a pattern on his scalp, over and over again, lulling him into a steady calm. "I keep thinking about my mom. She always told me how excited she was when she found out she was having me, but look how well that turned out. I have no idea how to do this."

Logan pressed his lips to her belly and stroked shapes onto her lower back. "I'm scared shitless about being a dad, you know. I'm pretty sure there's at least twenty different ways I could fuck this poor kid up, but having a family - knowing we'll be doing it together - I'd do anything as long as it was with you. I love you so much."

Veronica sank to her knees and he sat back on his heels to keep them level. There were tears streaming down her face. "I'd like to change my answer to 'maybe'."

Logan laughed and kissed her soundly. "You always have to have the better exit line, don't you?"

* * *

**A/N - You finally got what you wanted - the 'baby' admission scene - was it everything you expected and more, or do you want to make me 'walk the plank' Cassidy Casablancas style off the roof of The Neptune Grand? Let me know either way! Please feed the review whore by leaving a comment!**

**PS - Much love to beta extraordinaire silverlining2k6 for reminding me to have Mac put her pants back on after the exam!**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N - No, this is not the longest chapter I've written, but the last chapter was, so I hope you'll average the two and forgive me. It's about one scene short (1,000 words), compared with the typical length - but big stuff happens here!**

**Thanks again to all of you who left reviews. I'm REALLY happy that you all seemed to like the LoVe scene, as well as the MaDi/V business. I have grand plans for them all, so sit tight. Sorry, I'm a little late on responding to the comments, but I promise I will get there soon...**

* * *

Previously: Veronica convinced Weevil to get close to Molly to find out intel about the Fitzgerald clan. Dick called Veronica to help him figure out if Mac was drugged and raped. Something in their conversation triggered his memory, and he remembered that Cassidy raped her. The guilt hit him as hard as it had the first time and he apologized to Veronica, which she accepted and appreciated. Veronica examined Mac, and she was drugged with Ketamine, but not raped, just molested from the waist up (she had a hickey). Logan came home drunk in the middle of the night after feeling sorry for himself, and Veronica was patient and kind with him, rather than judgmental, as she usually would have been. Seeing the ways in which Dick had changed made her realize that maybe she needed to change too. She told Logan about the pregnancy, and instead of reacting badly, as she'd anticipated, he was overjoyed - he would finally have a family again and a permanent connection to Veronica for the rest of their lives. Humbled by his reaction, Veronica changed her answer to his proposal to 'maybe'.

* * *

**CHAPTER 8**

Logan clung to Veronica's waist from behind as they descended the stairs of their house to head toward the kitchen.

"What are you doing?" she asked, tilting her head to look into his eyes.

He hadn't stopped touching her since she'd told him about the pregnancy, and he wasn't sure he could if he wanted to (which he didn't). The baby didn't seem real to him otherwise. "I'm protecting my family."

"From the rigors of daily life? I think we can probably navigate the treacherous staircase on our own." She rubbed her non-existent belly with her hand. "Can't we kid?"

_Kid. Who knew that would ever sound like the most beautiful word in the English language? _

Logan leaned his chin on her shoulder and closed his eyes. "Sorry, can't hear you. Sleeping."

"That's convenient, you're starting early. Usually men don't pretend to be sleeping until the baby actually arrives and starts crying in the middle of the night."

"I'm already an expert at that. I've had years of experience blocking out Dick's crying at 4am. He tends to be a weepy drunk," he said, off of her look.

Logan hadn't slept very much during the night despite ingesting copious amount of alcohol, which usually functioned quite nicely as a sedative. His mind was racing non-stop. Every time he closed his eyes, he'd envision Veronica.

Sometimes, she was lying on her side in the sand behind their house, her swollen belly pressed into the beach towel as she tried to shade herself with his latest book (it's not like he'd imagine her reading John Grisham!). At other times, her stomach was flat and she was sitting in a lawn chair, drinking a lemonade and laughing as he lifted a miniature version of her onto a rocking horse.

There were many variations on each of his fantasies, but they all had two things in common: She was there and he was happy.

_Can we really be happy? I'm not sure I would even know what that looks like enough to recognize it._

Veronica turned her head and kissed him on the cheek. "It's very sweet, but you can't stand behind me for seven more months, puppy."

"Yes I can."

"No, you can't, your legs would get tired. Plus, how would I be able to do the moonwalk with you in my way?" She pulled him around to face her. "I'd probably elbow you in the face if I attempted the Cabbage Patch, and I could just forget about ever doing the ChaChaCha again. How do you expect me to live without doing the ChaChaCha, Logan? The answer: I can't."

"Well, can I change my response and just claim that I was trying to cop a feel?" Logan pressed her into the wall.

_I totally am, by the way._

Veronica sighed heavily and her eyes drifted Northward. "I'm already pregnant, what more can you possibly do to me?"

Logan tucked his head into the most sensitive part of her neck and kissed her skin, still warm from sleep. "I think we both know how creative I can be in that arena."

She blushed and let her skull fall back against the wall. "Ouch."

He laughed and kissed the crown of her head. "See? I told you that you needed my protection. Does she ever listen?" He addressed the question to an imaginary crowd and then turned back to her. "You never listen."

"_I _never listen?" Her expression was incredulous.

"Jeez, I've never seen two people take so long to descend one flight of stairs." Duncan was waiting on the bottom landing, looking amused. "I trust that you two have made up?"

"Oh yeah." Logan pulled Veronica by the hand as he alighted the stairs. "Three times at least."

She shot him an annoyed look and shook her head.

_I know, I know. I'm peeing on her like a dog, marking its territory. I mean, I may know that she's pregnant with my child, but it's not like he does._

Duncan expelled an exaggerated groan. "Contrary to popular belief, you don't actually have to say everything that pops into your brain at the moment it occurs to you, dude."

"Oh, I know." Logan smirked at his friend as he pulled Veronica past him toward the kitchen with a swagger.

Out of his peripheral vision, he could see Veronica mouth an apology to Duncan as she passed.

* * *

"There's my girl!" Logan shouted at Lilly, who was busily eating her Corn Flakes at the kitchen table.

"Hey! You already have a cute blonde girl. This one's mine!" Duncan joked, as he followed them in.

Logan plopped down next to Lilly, who leaned toward him and whispered. "Corn Flakes suck."

_Seriously, how is she only seven?_

Duncan frowned. "Lilly! Firstly, watch your language, and secondly, I don't care if they suck. If I were to let you eat the kind of cereal you really want, you'd have no teeth left to chew it with."

Veronica looked impressed. "Wow. You totally sound like a dad, Donut."

"I totally am a dad, Veronica. And for the next six months, so are you two." He narrowed his eyes and pointed his finger, alternating back and forth between the both of them before taking his seat. "I'm really hoping to get her back in original mint condition, if at all possible." He poured himself a bowl of 'Fruit & Fiber' cereal.

"Don't sweat it, DK, not only will she be returned in mint condition, she will also be 'new in box'." Logan grinned and Duncan pursed his lips.

Veronica poured Apple Jacks into a bowl and drowned them in milk. Lilly looked on jealously and Logan winked at her, as if to tell her she'd be getting to eat those soon enough.

"Crankiness aside, you really do look remarkably good for somebody who drank their weight in tequila last night." Veronica shoveled a giant spoonful of cereal into her mouth.

Duncan chuckled and grabbed for the skim milk. "I feel like death warmed over, but when you have a kid, they're up with the roosters no matter how tightly you've 'tied one on' the night before. They have no sympathy or patience for hangovers."

Logan harrumphed. "Those selfish little bas..."

"Logan!" Veronica glared at him and then shifted her eyes to Lilly.

"Just please promise me that when I get back, you will have kept her my sweet Lilly, and not let that one's influence," Duncan grumbled, glancing at Logan, "devolve her into your saucy Lilly."

"Our Lilly was your Lilly too, you know. She was _your_ sister!" Veronica moved her cereal bits around with her spoon while in thought.

Logan reached for Veronica's knee under the table and felt her muscles relax under his hand. "Duncan, I know you're stressed out and nervous, man, but like I said before, we will take care of her as if she were ours."

He then watched as his oldest friend – a guy he'd always teased for having the emotional range of a humanoid robot – struggled valiantly not to choke up.

"I know that," Duncan whispered. "I trust you guys, and I love you." For that last part, he was looking directly at Veronica, who seemed to tense up again under Logan's hand.

Veronica smiled sadly and grabbed the tips of Duncan's fingers across the table. "We love you too, and I promise we'll all visit. Those six months will just fly by!"

He looked at her doubtfully, but she pressed ahead. "Fly by, I tell ya!"

_At least now he's smiling._

She continued talking a blue streak, and Logan wondered whether her intention was to fill every waking silence for Duncan until the moment the warden shut the jail cell gate, or whether she was really doing it to distract herself from her own sadness. None of them were particularly excited with the way the day was going to end. It almost made him happy he had a previous appointment that afternoon...until he remembered who it was with.

_An afternoon with Madison or a sojourn to the county prison? A toss up for me, really._

Veronica raised an eyebrow in Duncan's direction and twisted her lips in a cheeky way. "And hey – everybody who gets 'sent away'," she whispered through cupped hands, "always comes back super buff. Did you see how ripped Robert Downey Jr. looked when he got out of the clink? Your milkshake is gonna bring ALL of the girls to the yard..."

She was rambling nervously, but it seemed to be distracting Duncan, so Logan decided to just kick back and let it play out. He could use the entertainment. It was clear little Lilly had the same idea, based on bug-eyed the look she gave him once Veronica started singing Kelis.

"Plus, you'll also have some major street cred. Don't underestimate how much the ladies love themselves a bad boy..." Veronica winked at Duncan, as her spare hand ducked under the table and caressed Logan's inner thigh.

_What the hell made me think she was going to run off with him, again?_

Logan felt stupid for being so jealous the night before. It was obvious, in retrospect, that Veronica's feelings for Duncan didn't supercede friendship, but he'd worked himself up so thoroughly at the possibility, that he'd almost engineered his own irrational prophecy by default.

_Ronnie's a consummate liar, for sure, but she's never lied to me about her feelings for Duncan, and I'm going to have force myself to trust her, even if I end up grinding my teeth down to a smooth plane from anxiety. _

He was going to be mature about Duncan...right after this. "Let's just hope your milkshake doesn't bring the _boys_ to the yard..."

_The prison yard._

The color left Duncan's face and he dropped his spoon into the cereal bowl with a clatter.

Veronica pinched Logan's thigh hard and he winced in pain. "Don't listen this idiot, Duncan. Everybody knows rich boys can buy themselves protection on the inside." Logan smiled at the various different euphemisms for jail that his girlfriend managed to work into one conversation, all just to shield Lilly from the harsh reality. He wondered how many times Keith had done the same for Veronica in high school. "Besides, I already have Weevil on it. He's got some friends where you're going, and his friends are your friends...for the right price."

"I appreciate that. A lot." Duncan relaxed for the first time that morning and dug into his cereal. "Maybe after we stop off at my mother's and Lilly heads out with Logan, you could get the paperwork together to enroll her in school for when it starts up again in January?"

"I filled everything out, and Alicia already took care of dropping it off with the school board." Veronica took another bite of cereal.

"Please thank her for me." Duncan nodded his head, obviously unable to show his gratitude without losing it again. It was an emotional day for all of them, but for him, it was literally D-day.

_Detention Day. Depression Day. Discombobulation Day. So many D's...so little time._

Lilly climbed onto her father's lap and snuggled him while he ate.

_Fuck, he looks sad. What has this world come to when, instead of being regal or stoic, the Duncan Kanes of this world simply look pathetic and beaten down? This was not was he was designed for, dammit._

While the father-daughter pair was otherwise distracted, Logan leaned over to Veronica and kissed her just behind her ear. "Remember that thing DK wanted you to do before they locked him up? I – I think you should do it...you know, if you want to."

Veronica pulled away and looked at him doubtfully.

"What? I can be mature." He batted his lashes at her smugly.

She leaned in and kissed him gently on the lips. "If I'd only known that getting knocked up was all it would have taken to get you to be a mensche, I would have tossed those pills out years ago."

Logan scoffed. "A total lie, but a nice sentiment."

"Yeah, but still...I'm kind of glad it happened now." She kissed him again.

_You are?_

He slid his hand from her knee up to her belly and left it there. "Me too."

* * *

Veronica led Lilly to the doorway of Celeste's bedroom and gave her a little push, which earned the older blonde a level of eye roll that Lilly Sr. would have been proud to call her own.

"I'm just dropping daddy off at the government building we talked about, and you're going to stay with your grandma for a visit, and then Uncle Logan will take you with him."

"I know what jail is, Auntie Vee." The eye roll made another appearance.

_Isn't this shit supposed to start in middle school? How old are they when they go to middle school? _

"Why am I not surprised?" Veronica gave her an eye roll back. Two could play at that game.

Lilly straightened her posture proudly and glanced at her grandmother before speaking. "It's a place where people go who have broken the law."

"True, but things aren't always that simple, Lilly," Veronica explained.

The little one's eyes shifted toward Celeste once more. "I know. Grandma told me that daddy is a white collar criminal. She's says that's the good kind."

Veronica looked up with horror at Celeste, who quickly became very interested in her Kindle.

"Your daddy isn't a criminal, he's a hero – like Batman. Sometimes, heroes have to break the law in order to help the people who need saving, even if it means they go to jail."

"Is that what you did when you helped daddy and me?"

_Which time?_

"I didn't...what?"

Veronica didn't feel like explaining the many and varied ways she'd bent the law to smuggle the little girl out of the country – not in front of Celeste at least. That's not the kind of ammo she was willing to arm her with.

_I'd sooner feed a Gremlin after midnight._

Celeste continued to peruse her Kindle, while aimlessly smiling to herself.

Veronica gave the older woman the side-eye and continued to address her goddaughter. "Lilly, I've done a lot of things I'm not proud of, but I've also helped a lot of people, so I can't regret it...even if sometimes I didn't always go about it the right way."

Lilly grabbed Veronica's hand and swung it back and forth. "You helped daddy and me."

Veronica could feel Celeste's eyes subtly examining her, trying to remain unnoticed as she collected information, no doubt to be filed away for later use.

There was no way she was admitting to a felony in front of Celeste Kane, even if they both knew it was true.

"And I would do it all over again. I will always help you and your daddy." Veronica smiled at her best friend's tiny doppelganger. "No matter which laws I have to break to do it."

Lilly laid her head on Veronica's arm that she was hugging and continued swinging it, nearly pulling the small woman down with her force. "I'm really glad I'm staying with you." Once Lilly was able to pull her godmother down low enough, she threw her arms around her neck.

_This feels...nice._

Veronica embraced the child back and felt warm in a way she'd never felt before. "Me too." She started to tear up and used everything she had to force herself to stop. There was just no universe in which she planned to break down crying in front of the Ice Queen.

_Damn these stupid hormones! Quick - get the kid out of here before you start lactating!_

She placed a hand on Lilly's lower back and angled her at the doorway. "Your daddy is waiting by the front door to say a special good bye to you, so I'll see you in a bit."

"Okay." Lilly said before running off.

Celeste continued to stare at Veronica, an unreadable expression on her face, then put her Kindle to the side of the bed. "I have something to say to you, Veronica."

_Oh Jesus. I'm not even dating her son anymore and she still has to invent some reason to tear me down._

Veronica shook her head lightly and stifled a groan. "Naturally."

Celeste's usual haughty, derisive expression softened to something that might easily be mistaken for friendliness. "It's not what you think. I wanted - I guess I just wanted to apologize."

_Have I crossed over? Had a stroke? Slipped through a wormhole in the time-space continuum? This cannot be happening in the real world._

Veronica's forehead bunched, and she was sure her inner ear injury had to be flaring up, because she had to be hearing things. "Come again?"

Her onetime nemesis rose from her bed, looking every bit the royal in her silken robe, and crossed the room to stand before her.

_Did she seriously just get up and walk over to ME? This must be one of the seven signs of the 'end of days'!_

"Look, I know I was unfair to you when you were younger, and often unkind - -"

"_Always_ unkind, if we're being accurate," Veronica interjected, nearly kicking herself for interrupting what was sure to be a history-making event.

Celeste ignored her outburst and pushed on. "You've risked a lot for my family, both in finding Lilly's true killer, and in helping Duncan and my granddaughter escape the clutches of the Manning family." She held her hand up, to halt any further interruptions that she knew were bound to occur.

_Guess she knows me almost as well as I know her. Nice to know she was actually paying attention all those years._

"I'll admit, I didn't think it was a smart move at the time for Duncan to raise his child, but now that I've gotten to know little Lilly, I can't imagine not having her in our lives, and I know I have you to thank for that."

Veronica was speechless, this was honestly the last conversation she thought she'd ever engage in with Celeste.

"Does this mean I can start coming to all of those club events you banned me from in high school? I've got to say, I really was quite disappointed to have missed that macrame fundraiser for inbred purebred doggies."

"Has anybody ever told you how awful you are at accepting an apology?" She stared blankly at Veronica with a hint of a smile gracing her still beautiful face.

_As a matter of fact...you're going to have to get in line behind Logan. He gets pissed off when people try to skip ahead._

She shifted uncomfortably on her feet. "It may have been mentioned to me at some point..."

"What you're doing – taking in Lilly – I really appreciate that. I would do it myself, but as you can see, I'm not really in any condition."

Veronica felt a pang of guilt, knowing how hard Celeste was fighting for her life. They'd never be best friends, but she didn't want her dead either.

"Look, I'm sorry for my behavior in the past, okay? Can we just pretend like all of the nastiness never happened and move on?" She extended her hand to Veronica. "For Lilly and Duncan's sake?"

Veronica stared at the pale, thin olive branch being thrust toward her and nodded. "I'm not sure I can forget everything that happened, but I do appreciate the effort, and I'm willing to try to move past it. For Lilly's sake." She took Celeste's frail hand and shook it gently. There was no way she would admit to doing anything for Duncan's sake. Not to that crazy bitch. "I was told that you might like me to take Lilly here for visits once a week, if you're up to it."

"I would like that very much."

_Wow. I think this is the most civil conversation I've had with Celeste in 12 years. I keep waiting for Ashton Kutcher to jump out of the bushes with a camera and announce that I've been 'Punk'd'._

Veronica laughed at the irony. "You know, I never in a million years thought these words would come out of my mouth, but if it's all the same with you, I'd really rather only deal with you, as far as Lilly is concerned. Your husband and I have...a sticky history, and my mom, well..."

"...is a home-wrecking lush?" Celeste said with a wicked smile. She always did have the special talent of being able to deliver a dig with the same tone and glee another person might bestow a compliment.

_Tell me how you really feel, lady!_

Veronica crossed her arms over her chest protectively. It was a 'Sophie's Choice'. Does she defend the mother who tossed her away like garbage or the woman who made the 2nd half of her childhood hell? "Well, guess I can't argue with the facts..."

Celeste grinned, and this time it was genuine. "And that, my dear, is what makes apologizing to you so much easier than it should be. You're not Lianne. In fact, you're really nothing like her, and it was irrational for me to treat you as if you were, at sixteen no less." She waved the back of her hand through the air as if she could erase time with the flick of her wrist.

It was an odd kind of validation, but if her sworn enemy could admit she wasn't like Lianne, then maybe she could finally allow herself to believe it, if only reluctantly. "I've always been more my father's daughter."

_Please let that be as true as I want it to be..._

"Yes, that's true. I don't know what made me think you could have been Jake's. You have your father's backbone. That's not exactly Kane trait." With that, she turned and walked back over to the bed.

_Come on, Vee, say something nice back to her. Keep the good will going for Lilly._

"For what it's worth, if I were married to Jake and had to fend off Lianne for 20 years, I think I might have bought a one way ticket to Loonytown too, though mine would probably have been in steerage. You know, being broke and all..."

_Okay, that managed to be both bitchy and empathetic at the same time. Not sure if I should be proud of myself or ashamed._

Celeste raised an eyebrow at Veronica with apparent affront, but a twinkle played in her eyes. "Well...if that were your case, I might have even sprung for you to get upgraded to 2nd class - where you belong – if I'd been feeling at all charitable that day."

_Well played, Ice Queen. Well. Played._

Veronica let out a sound that was something between a laugh and a cry. "Okay, on that note, I think I can safely tick this conversation off my bucket list."  
_  
And yours too...ugh. What possessed me to say that? Hello foot, my big stupid mouth sends its regards._

"I'm just getting started on my bucket list, Veronica." Unfazed as usual, she casually lifted her Kindle and swiped the screen with her index finger. "Oh, and just a friendly warning, you may want to vacate the premises within the next half hour. That's usually when Jake and your mother get home from couples yoga."

Veronica recoiled, much to Celeste's satisfaction.

* * *

"What are you wearing?" The voice on the other end of the line spoke in a gruff whisper, the urgency behind it giving Mac the chills.

She wasn't sure if she was still half-dreaming, but if she wasn't, it was a hell of a way to wake up.

"Dick?" Whether dreaming or awake, there was really only one guy it could be.

A soft chuckle cascaded from his lips. "You have other perverts calling you up at 7am?"

"Usually they don't start ringing me until around 8am, so you're a little early..." She groaned and rolled over to check her clock, knocking it off the night table by mistake, then rolled back into her former position and closed her eyes. "Why are you up at 7am?"

"Watching some of my bros surf, though I don't think I'll do that again until my shoulder heals. I just sat on a longboard with my dick in my hand while everybody else was getting laid."

_I can't believe he just said 'longboard' without making a dick joke...and then mentioned his dick, but as part of a metaphor. Am I still asleep?_

Mac pinched herself.

_Ouch. _

"That sucks." She frowned, figuring it must be as frustrating for him to watch his buddies surf with a bum shoulder, as it would be for her to stand in the center of the computer lab with a broken hand, helplessly looking on as other people programmed her software.

A companionable silence fell between.

_This feels pretty normal. Way more than it should, I mean._

"Hey, why are you _not _up at 7am? Don't you have to be at work?" His tone was leading, but she wouldn't take the bait.

"I called in sick."

He let out a long breath and she heard the sound of him switching the phone to his other ear. "Good. I thought I was gonna have to go all apeshit on your ass."

_Male posturing exhausts me. It's also a teensy bit hot, but the feminist in me is shutting that shit down._

"I'm going to have to go back there sometime," she said, knowing exactly the reaction that statement would elicit.

His response was an irritated grunt. "Fuck that. I'll hire you."

She laughed and turned over on her stomach, then inched her way to the edge of the bed to retrieve the clock from where it had tumbled under the bed. "Yeah, that's going to look fabulous on my resume, dating the boss."

"Are we dating?" He didn't even bother trying to sound blasé, which kind of impressed her. There was an odd kind of confidence in leaving yourself open like that.

Mac smiled into the phone. "I don't know, are we?"

"Well, I am standing right outside your door, waiting to take you to breakfast, so I'm gonna go with 'yes'." The call disconnected.

Her eyes widened and she stared dumbfounded at the phone.

_He can't really be out there right now, can he? What am I thinking? Of course he can. He's Dick. The guy has let himself into my apartment more than I have this week._

She looked down at her nightclothes with disappointment and tried to calculate if she had enough time to change before answering the door.

Mac assumed that Dick's other conquests probably wore garters and other frilly, complicated things to bed. She was pretty sure that her sleep uniform of Max's old, plaid flannel pajama bottoms coupled with her threadbare 'Byte Me' t-shirt was probably going to be a giant step down for him.

She raced into her bathroom and grabbed her toothbrush, giving her mouth a 20 second once-over, then took a step in the direction of her closet, but was quickly talked out of it by the insistent thumping on the outside of her front door. Taking a moment to pull the rubber band from her hair and shake her dark locks out, she ran off down the hallway to let him in.

"Good morning, sunshine!" Mac said with a bite. She had barely opened the door a crack, when he pushed his way past her into the living room. "You know, for a surfer, you're not so laid back."

Still in his wetsuit, with a small duffel bag slung over his good shoulder, Dick shook off a vexed expression. "You wouldn't be too laid back if you had a slab of soggy polyurethane pressed up against your balls and didn't even get a good ride out of it." His expression dared her to comment.

_I am SO not walking into this trap._

Mac's eyebrows shot up to meet her hairline. "And here I'd always heard a slab of soggy polyurethane on the balls was a turn on. Guess that ruins our plans tonight."

He dropped his bag on the floor and shot her an impressed smile before turning his attention to his wetsuit. "You're smart, Mackie. I'm sure you can improvise." Dick picked his head up again to gauge her reaction as he unzipped the front of his suit. "Byte Me? That's cute." He did a double take. "Wait - have you worn this before around me?"

_No, but I'd like to._

She shook her head. "I only wear it to bed, so that's a no."

He pealed the wetsuit down his arms and chest and then rummaged through his bag for a t-shirt, which he slowly donned, with a moderate amount of discomfort.

"Stimulus Package?" Mac pulled a grimace as she gestured to the arrow on his t-shirt, pointing directly down to his crotch. "Just promise me you'll wear this exact shirt if I ever take you home to meet my parents."

"Just for that, I totally will." He grinned.

He turned around and pulled the rest of the suit off, exposing his naked ass. Mac tried to look away, but couldn't help but sneak a peek.

_If I had that ass, I'd probably be flashing it all over town too_.

"There is a bathroom in the apartment, you know?" She reminded him weakly, not trying too hard to push the issue.

He pulled on a pair of boxer briefs and turned around to face her again. "It's nothing you haven't seen before."

"I guess. You've certainly put it out there enough times." She leaned to the side to see if she could catch a rear view. "Your ass was the Pi Sig mascot, right?"

He placed his hand over his heart in a mocking gesture. "Aww, you remembered. You shouldn't be embarrassed for looking, Mackie."

She was mildly annoyed by his patronizing assumption that every woman wanted him. "Why? Because I'd have to be crazy not to check out your 'fantastic' ass?"

_You just had to inject the word 'fantastic', didn't you?_

* * *

Dick looked at her with unabashed swagger. "No, because I've been checking out _your_ ass since our freshman year of college, so I'd like to think the ass-gazing goes both ways."

"Because of Grade-My-Ass?"

"No, Einstein, because you have a nice ass."

_..._

_You think I don't know what your ass looks like, Mac? _

_Believe me, I've stared at it enough to know it from a mile away._

_..._

Dick forehead crinkled at the faint memory.

_What the hell was that?_

Mac looked at him with curiosity. "Are you thinking of my ass or something? Your mind just totally wondered off into a meadow somewhere."

"More like a parking lot..." He shook his head. Usually when he has a blackout, the time is gone forever, lost to the void, but this...this was different. There were pieces of that night he'd rather forget, but Mac certainly wasn't one of them, yet he was starting to get the sneaking suspicion that she had been. "Mack, do you remember the night of the accident?"

Her body froze at the question, which was pretty much a tip off that she did. "I do...do you?"

"I don't know. Usually I don't, but then I hear something, and...I don't know." He ran both hands through his shaggy mane. "It feels a little bit like going crazy."

She nodded and gestured to the couch, indicating for him to sit. "Which things are triggering you?"

He swallowed hard and looked around her apartment. "Usually just stuff you say, or stuff Ronnie says. I remembered that thing about Beav raping Ronnie. I was talking about it in a bar with you."

Her mouth dropped open and she looked like she had maybe forgotten to breathe.

"That happened, right?" He could help looking lost, because it was how he felt. "I didn't just make that shit up in my head?"

Mac cleared her throat and demurely placed her hands on her lap. "It was called 'The Hangman's Folly. The bar."

"That's a really fucked up name for a bar."

She laughed and the sound of it resonated in the center of his belly. "You're not wrong."

"I want to remember everything. Can't you just tell me what happened?"

She hesitated before answering and he wondered if there was some horrible secret they were all keeping from him on purpose.

_I didn't kill a guy, did I?_

"The doctor said it would be better for you to remember on your own. Less traumatic."

He shook his head in frustration. "I don't know, but this feel pretty fucking traumatic too. How much worse could it get?"

She turned serious and gave him a measured response. "A lot of stuff happened that night."

"Come on, Mackie...can't you cut a guy a break?" He looked at her longingly, hoping desperately he could fracture her will.

She stared at her hands for a long while and then lifted her chin. "I have an idea."

"You always do." Her determination made his insides warm, giving him a sense of hope. He knew he could count on her - she was one of those stand-up girls - the kind that stuck with you when you really needed them to and took care of all the crap you couldn't do for yourself. Ronnie did that for Logan, and he was positive his buddy would have served hard time twice over if it weren't for her...and Mac, too.

Hopping off the couch, she scampered across the room to her iPod dock and turned it on. After scrolling through song titles for what seemed like an eternity, she finally settled on one and turned the volume up on her speakers. "I couldn't find the one I wanted, but maybe this will trigger something...?"

Dick remained planted on the couch, eagerly awaiting whatever she had in store for him.

The dulcet strains of a big band orchestra thundered through the speakers and he gave Mac a quizzical look. "You like the old shit, huh?"

_Fly me to the moon  
Let me play among the stars  
Let me see what spring is like  
On a-Jupiter and Mars  
In other words, hold my hand  
In other words, baby, kiss me_

"Is this Sinatra?" he asked, feeling strange in his head. "Big Dick was always a big fan of The Chairman. He used to keep the CD in his car all the time and sing along. Cass and I always ragged on him hard for it."

Mac observed him like a specimen from across the room, her face taut with expectation. "Yeah. My dad also used to do that."

_Fill my heart with song  
And let me sing for ever more  
You are all I long for  
All I worship and adore  
In other words, please be true  
In other words, I love you_

He closed his eyes and listened to the music.

_..._

_'I think I like us being friends'_

_..._

Dick heard echoing in his head. He then had a flash of Mac looking up at him through dark lashes.

...

_'Me too...'_

_..._

The memories assaulted his mind at a frenzied pace and he tried to make sense of it all.

...

_'Never thought I'd say this, but I think I like you better when you're bombed__'_

_No, I think you just like me – period'_

_'I don't hate you...not anymore, at least'_

_'I'll take it!'_

_'Okay then'_

_..._

Dick's eyes widened as the final pieces of the puzzle fell into place. His lips tingled at the memory of kissing her and he brought his fingers up to touch them.

_Oh shit!_

He looked at Mac like he wanted to say something – anything – but how could he put everything into words when it was all just now coming into focus? Instead, he just gaped at her nervously.

She shook her head, looking more embarrassed with each passing moment. "I'm sorry, Dick. This was probably a dumb idea. I'm sure it's just completely weird to you."

A grin broke out across his face and he felt like a new man - or an old man – his old self, to be more specific. "I like weird, Mac, but you probably know that about me by now."

Her head lifted, recognizing the phrase instantly.

Without another word, Dick crossed the room, cupped her face with both hands, and crushed his mouth into hers possessively, only for a moment, but a moment was long enough to leave them both floored.

Mac's mouth dropped open in shock, but before she had a chance to figure out what had just happened, he kissed her again, this time deeper and with more feeling than before. His lips were on fire and it felt like the first time, even though he knew it wasn't. He remembered that night. All of it. He remembered the sensation of fisting her soft hair as she roughly slid her fingers up the back of his shirt and gripped his shoulders. He recalled the weight of her legs wrapped around his waist as he perched her on the trunk of Veronica's old car, leaning her back for an easier angle to better taste her skin.

And then the water bottle hit him in the back of the head, and it was over almost as soon as it had begun.

_Fucking Duncan! I'm going to have to kick his ass when he gets out of prison._

Dick was momentarily distracted by all thoughts of ass-kicking by Mac's arms, wrapping tightly around his neck as she leaned up into the kiss.

_How could I have forgotten THIS? For realz._

She smiled against his lips, and he knew everything was finally back to the way things should be.

* * *

**A/N - I know some of you dirty dogs are mad because there's no smut here, but my beta is silverlining2k6 (big shout out!) and her teasing has rubbed off on me, what can I say? You will get your smut in due time. I wouldn't let you down. Besides, Mac is a good girl, she doesn't just jump into bed with guys (yet!)**

**So - what did you think? Did Dick remember that night the way you expected? Were you surprised by Celeste's ceasefire with Veronica? Is it only a matter of time before Lilly gets Logan into big trouble at some point? **

**Thanks to all of those who have put this fic on alert and those who have made the story a favorite. I'm so flattered! Also, I just wanted to say a special thank you to all of the anonymous/unregistered reviewers out there - some of the best comments I receive are from you (I'm talking to you especially, 'anonymous me'!), and I wish I could respond to all of you personally, just so you know how much they mean to me. Can't wait to hear everybody's reaction to this chapter, so please hit me up with a review, if you have the time/energy :)**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N - Before anybody comments on it, I am basing my Jake Kane characterization on the haunted, unhinged and bitter Jake Kane we saw in the series finale. In my imagination, Jake mellowed out once he brought Lianne back into his life full-time. However, he still lost both of his children, mostly due to his (and Celeste's) parental negligence, so I just don't see him as truly happy. Plus, he's proven many times over that he has a temper.**

**Also, many many apologies for not responding to everybody's reviews as quickly as I'd liked. Lots of family in town this week for my little guy's 4th birthday, so I've been busy. I promise to get to everybody eventually. I appreciate each and every review, honestly!**

**My muse is a fickle bitch right now, and I am ****_struggling_**** big time. Maybe I'm a little burnt out after writing the 39 chapter MacGuffin? Just please be patient with me. I promise I won't make you wait months between updates, though my pace may be a tad slower at the moment because of the writer's block. I'm trying to work through the doldrums by writing a mini-fic ('The Morning After') for my old fandom T70S. Sometimes, switching things up jump-starts the brain. Either way, those of you follow my writing know this fic won't be abandoned, so don't get nervous. I've never abandoned a story yet. I wouldn't do that to people who've invested their time and energy in my work :)**

**Now that you know more about me than my therapist...on with the show!**

* * *

Previously: Logan and Veronica made up, and he gave her permission to give Duncan a goodbye kiss. Duncan got emotional about leaving Lilly. Veronica brought Lilly and Duncan to visit Celeste before he remanded himself into custody. Celeste apologized to V for treating her badly as a kid and thanked her for taking care of Lilly. Dick remembered the night of the crash and kissed Mac matinee style!

* * *

**CHAPTER 9 **

Duncan and Veronica sat silently in the back of Celeste's limo, both looking out of their respective windows as the car drove a steady 35 mph toward the courthouse.

"Maybe we should ask Speedy Gonzales up there to slow down to a breezy 25? No use getting there early, right?" She smiled brightly, though her insides were feeling the strain of the day's events. Her morning sickness seemed to get worse the closer they got to their destination.

_They really should call it 'oldest-friend-goes-to-jail sickness'...or does that only apply to me?_

Duncan shot Veronica an amused, side-long glance and then refocused his gaze on the passing blur on the other side of the window. "You know, when I imagined finally coming home to Neptune, this wasn't really what I'd envisioned."

She reached blindly across the bench and grabbed his hand. "You were expecting a secret service escort off the tarmac? Maybe a ticker tape parade? Perhaps, even a tin can sculpture fashioned in your likeness in the middle of the town square?"

The car ironically trundled past a recycling center, with cans piled as high as they could safely stack.

"We have a town square and nobody told me?" His blue eyes twinkled as he narrowed them at her. "Well, great. Now, I'm incandescent just thinking of all the time I wasted dragging my soapbox to the boardwalk."

"Pine?"

"Mahogany." He looked at her as though she'd suggested he eat chitlins. "Only the best for us Kane men."

Veronica smacked her forehead lightly with the palm of her hand. "One of these days I'll be able to go out of the house without embarrassing myself around rich people."

She wished more than anything that she had kept one of her infamous 'get out of jail free' cards from high school in reserve for him.

_Cue 'Community Chest' joke here._

Sadly, those days were long gone, as were most of her contacts from back then, too.

His face was turned toward her politely, but his eyes were firmly on the flash of trees whizzing past her head. "What did you expect when you came back to Neptune?"

"Oh you know, the usual: Long lost friends cursing my name, family members having forgotten what I looked like, old lovers running from me like I'm covered in killer bees..."

Duncan's hand closed more firmly around hers during a fit of laughter. "Well, none of that stuff happened...not yet, at least. I mean, it seems to have worked out for you...you know, besides being kidnapped, almost getting blown up and having your friend die. Could have been worse."

"Shh!" She made angry face and pointed to the heavens. "Any more talk of hubris, and the gods will have me probed by aliens next. Seriously Donut, they're running out of their A-material."

"Sorry, I forgot who I was talking to." He gave her a lopsided smile. "You, Echolls and me...we're kind of in a dead heat for shittiest luck."

_I can honestly say I have no idea who would win that race._

Veronica turned to Duncan, trying and failing to suppress a grin. "Wasn't 'Dead Heat' one of Aaron's big hits? The one where Logan had a crawl-on role as his character's toddler son?"

"No, that would be 'Cold Heat', which if you think about it, makes absolutely no sense whatsoever." Duncan mirrored her smile.

"Uh, hello? He was a government scientist working as a double agent in remote Siberia, building the cold fusion bomb. That's both hot _and _cold. Boo-yah!" Veronica nudged Duncan's shoulder gently.

She closed her eyes for a moment and tried to remember the scene Logan was in. He was crawling all over his father's chest, and when Aaron threw him in the air, he giggled and screamed for more.

Logan looked so content then, but it was a cruel irony that the only real moment of happiness he'd ever experienced with his dad was a total fabrication. At the time, he was too young to even know his father was acting, that he wasn't capable of pure love unless he was pretending to be somebody else. Sadness ate away at her chest remembering the beautiful eyes of the child on screen, still untainted by everything he would live through just a few years later.

_I hope the baby has his eyes..._

Duncan raised an eyebrow. "What are you thinking about?"

_My secret pregnancy._

"I'm thinking...I'm glad he's dead." Heat began to rise up in her chest the way it always did whenever she thought about Aaron's treatment of her boyfriend. She didn't have to explain to Duncan who she was talking about.

Duncan pensively observed her.

"What?" She looked behind herself.

_Do I have something on my face?_

"You really do love him," he said, resolutely.

Veronica bobbed her head up and down slowly. "I really do, though that's only one of many reasons I'm glad Aaron's dead."

Duncan nodded in agreement. "We could get a long list going."

"That was CW's handiwork, I assume?" she asked, staring at him to pressure a response. He never could withstand the Mars interrogation glare.

_Come on...crack already, dammit!_

He answered as if he could read her mind and released her hand. "You're a federal agent, Veronica."

_Please tell me he doesn't actually think I would arrest him after almost getting arrested myself to help him?_

"I'm on leave, and you're insulting me." Veronica sliced the air between them with the side of her hand, dismissively. "Anyway, you don't have to tell me, I know a professional hit when I see one. Not too many people are good enough to do such a clean job and leave the building undetected. Not even a CCTV shot from anywhere on the block. Only one outfit I know can pull something off like that with such short notice."

Duncan's face dropped. "You investigated Aaron's murder?"

_Was there really any question? Do you know me at all?_

She hedged, not feeling in the mood to explain her motivation or methods. "I may have poked around. I knew what I was looking for, and I found it."

"What did you find?" He was clearly petrified.

"You have a little sweat there on your top lip." She reached over and pretended to wipe it off with her sleeve.

_Just because I knew where to dig, doesn't mean law enforcement does. Who on Earth is still looking for Aaron Echoll's killer? It's not like his family is pushing for answers._

Veronica finally took pity on him. "I found nothing. Absolutely nothing. And that's how I knew it was Wiedman."

He visibly relaxed.

"The only thing I don't know is which one of you Kanes pulled the metaphorical trigger. Celeste is certainly cold enough to order something like that, but I know the obstruction of justice trial spooked her. Your dad is definitely viscous enough to want revenge, and he loved his baby girl... but he never did have the_ backbone _to make those tough calls, did he? That was always your mother's job." She pursed her lips, Celeste's earlier indictment of the Kane men still ringing in her ears. "That just leaves one person." Her eyes settled on his immobile face.

His breathing became shallow. "Veronica, I ca- -"

"Oh for God's sake, Duncan, you're already on the way to the slammer! I risked my life for you, committed a felony for you, do you actually think for one second I would ever turn you in for murdering my best friend's killer?" She was hurt by his doubt. If he could trust her with his kid, he should be able to trust her with this. "For Aaron Echoll's murder, no less?"

Duncan took her hand again. "I'm sorry. You're right...about _everything_."

_I love being right!_

A broad smile swept her face. "Duncan Kane, you little onion you."

"What? You're surprised I have layers?" Now, he was the one who looked hurt.

_Oh, I know you have layers. Even your layers have layers, you're just not aware of them yet._

She rolled her neck to release some of the stress of the morning. "Lilly always said she expected you to be a late bloomer. She used to swear to anybody who'd listen that you were more than just a pretty face with a good pedigree. She knew what you were capable of, more than anybody really."

His eyes narrowed with interest. "Did you think that?"

Veronica looked at him for a long moment and then twisted her lips. "No. But I'm guessing that you didn't see any of this coming either." She gestured down her body with her free hand.

Duncan exhaled roughly. "That would be a no. Stupid me actually thought that you were more like Meg than Meg was."

"Even Meg wasn't as Meg as you thought she was, Duncan, not deep down."

"What makes you say that?" He looked vaguely upset by the notion that his platinum Madonna might have been tarnished in any way.

_Funny, you had no problems believing a couple of the rumors Logan passed around about me._

Veronica enumerated her points on her fingers. "Meg fought back. She may have lost in the end, but she called Child Protective Services on her parents, kept a journal with the details of Grace's abuse, survived a 300 foot drop off of a cliff into the ocean when everybody else perished. And then, after all that, she willed herself to stay alive long enough to have Lilly. She was a much bigger fighter than any of us ever suspected. Your daughter takes a lot more after her than you probably realize."

A dreamy expression fogged over his features and he seemed almost to disappear into himself. "God, I hope so."

_Wow. He really did love Meg. At the time that possibility made me sad, but I'm actually really...relieved that he did. Lilly deserves to have been created out of love._

She rested her hand on her belly, which made her realize how famished she was. "You know...if we're really fast, I'll bet I can score us two slices from Cho's and you'll still have time to eat yours on the way."

Brought out of his reverie, Duncan chuckled. "Always with the food. It's not even lunchtime yet, your appetite is unbelievable. Are you sure there aren't two of you in there?" He shook his head.

_Actually... _

Veronica shrugged, bashfully. She'd had two straight days without morning sickness and was feeling a little cocky, despite her current queasiness. "Is that a no?"

"I'm worried you'll try to eat me if I say no." He bared his teeth.

"Nah. You're not marbled enough to make a good steak. Too lean."

He laughed and squeezed her hand tightly between both of his.

_Should I kiss him? He looks like he could use it...but I really don't want to. Does Logan actually want me to or was he just telling me it was okay if I did? Ugh. Alright, here goes nothing. _

"Duncan..." Veronica swallowed the saliva building in her mouth. "You know that favor you asked me to do for you...before you went to jail?"

Duncan's eyes widened with realization and his face blushed four shades pinker. "God, Veronica, no." He released her hand like it had cooties and held his arms out to stop her. "I was – God, I was drunk, and Jesus...No. It's not that you're not...or that I don't...but Logan is...and just no. Definitely no." He stared at her for so long in fear that he forgot to blink. "I meant, no _thank _you."

_Okaaaaaaay. That felt more like humiliation than charity, but at least I'm working within my wheelhouse again._

"Jeez, tell me how you really feel." She could feel her own face beginning to rapidly flush. Rejection was never fun, even if she wasn't even invested in the outcome and he was just trying to be a gentleman.

He backed up against the car door. "It's not that I haven't fantasized about it - it's just - last night when I was out with Logan...that was one fucked up brother. I would never...he's like my brother! I just can't afford to lose anybody else from my life. Either of you." He turned to the window again to regain his composure. "Maybe Dick was right about you being rich guy kryptonite?"

_The nerve!_

Veronica laughed awkwardly. "Can one die of a flattery overdose? I do believe you're giving me the vapors, Mr. Kane." She fanned herself like a Southern belle and tried to make out the mph number on the odometer through the tinted glass separating them from the driver.

_How long does it take to get to the center of town, anyway? Drive faster, asshole! _

He buried his face in his hands. "I'm sorry. I've been embarrassing myself at your expense so much lately. I am so so so sorry, Veronica. I really am happy for you guys, I hope you know that."

"Come on, how long have we known each other?" She scooted over to his side of the car and pulled his hands from his face.

Duncan nodded with a sad resolve. "He's a lucky guy."

"Some days." She smiled and gripped both of his hands. "And then on other days..." She blew a raspberry.

The car rolled to a stop and the driver put it into park. "We're here, sir."

Their eyes met and both passengers reflexively tensed at the driver's words.

* * *

Lianne and Jake walked through the front door in workout clothes. Jake nearly tripped over a slinky on the floor of the hallway, and picked it up, a sudden fury overtaking him.

"What's wrong?" Lianne asked, looking concerned.

"She's unbelievable!" he hissed, and stormed toward the kitchen, with Lianne close on his heels.

Celeste was sitting by the bay window in the kitchen, saving a warm cup of peppermint tea. Clarence leaned casually against the kitchen counter, but snapped to attention the moment Jake entered the room.

"What exactly do you think you're doing?" he asked, shaking the slinky in his tight grip.

Celeste looked down at her cup and then slowly took a sip. "I believe it's called 'drinking tea'."

"That's not what I'm talking about and you know it!" Jake was purple with rage and Lianne could see how much Celeste was enjoying it. There had been nothing between the married couple for years, and she just didn't understand why Celeste still insisted on torturing her lover as if she'd just discovered their affair.

The angrier Jake became, the more relaxed his wife seemed to be. "I'm afraid you're going to have to be more specific. I may be wearing a turban, but I'm not a soothsayer."

Lianne noticed a faint smile on Clarence Wiedman's usually stern face, but quickly disregarded it as a fluke.

_He has to be thinking about something else, because I know he wouldn't be laughing at Jake. He dislikes Celeste almost as much as I do._

Jake crossed his arms. "Duncan and Lilly. They were here this morning."

"Yes, you just missed them. What a pity." She gave him a tight smile and returned to her tea.

Jake stomped toward his wife, flinging the slinky which hit the floor with a tinny crash along the way, then rested his hands on the edge of the table and glowered down at her. "I wanted to say goodbye to my only living child before he remanded himself into custody."

Celeste sighed. "Well, then you probably should have cleared your schedule this morning...It wouldn't have been such a great loss, I mean obviously the yoga isn't working. You seem...tense."

_Calm down, honey. She's just doing it to rile you. Keep it together._

Jake's face turned three shades of purple and Lianne heartbeat anxiously galloped. His blood pressure hadn't been the best lately, and this was not helping matters. "You did this on purpose. It's unacceptable! He's my son too!"

"Honestly, darling. You're such a drama queen, you really need to learn to get a hold of that temper." Celeste rolled her eyes and then turned to admire the view outside her window.

His teeth grit. "I'd like to get a hold of - -"

Jake smacked the creamer across the table and it shattered on the floor next to Celeste's feet. Clarence took a step forward.

"Jake!" Lianne called sharply from behind him. The sound of his name coming from her lips was enough to pull him back.

Lianne sent up a silent prayer of thanks and approached the dueling duo slowly. At the rate they were at each other's throats, they would both be dead by Summer.

_God, I could use a drink._

She demonstrated the 'cleansing breath' they'd been learning in yoga class and silently urged her boyfriend to join in.

Celeste bit her bottom lip to keep from laughing and for the millionth time, but Lianne was determined to tune her out.

Having finally calmed down, Jake collapsed into an empty chair and rested his forehead in his hands. "Did he seem okay?"

"You know, I really didn't spend much time with him before he left. I was mostly visiting with Lilly...and Veronica." Celeste let her sickly-sweet gaze settle on Lianne for the first time since she'd entered the room. "She really has turned out to be a lovely girl."

Jake's head picked up instantly in bemusement.

_Veronica was here? Does she come here often? Why didn't Jake tell me this?_

Lianne felt every muscle in her body clench with unfulfilled longing.

"I sometimes think about _our _Lilly, and who she may have turned out to be by the time she was 25. I suppose it's something we'll never know, but I'd like to think she would have ended up even a little like Veronica." Celeste delicately slid the broken crockery from her path with the tip of her white, marabou slippers.

_Is this a sick joke? She's never made any secret about the fact that she hates my child._

"Veronica Mars?" Jake laughed and shook his head. "That's whom you'd hoped our daughter would turn out to be like?"

Lianne felt sick at the implication of his words and her eyes penetrated the fridge door, thinking about the vodka bottle she'd hidden in her own fridge. She could almost taste it.

Her eyes glazed over with unshed tears. "What's wrong with wanting Lilly to be like Veronica?"

Jake exhaled a long breath. "Nothing, Lianne. I'm sure she's a different person than she was five years ago."

One tear rolled down her cheek and her mouth began to salivate with the need to drink. Even a beer would hold her at this point. "What was wrong with Veronica five years ago?"

He looked confused and attempted to smile through the awkwardness. "She broke into my house, sweetheart."

"She didn't know it was your house when she broke in." She had heard all of the details of the break in from Jake, and took his version with a grain of salt.

"But when she figured it out, she didn't just leave, she robbed me! She's a thief!" He looked exasperated, but his words still cut as deeply as if they'd been aimed directly at her.

_I may be a lot of things: an absentee mother, a drunk, a weak-willed money grabber - but the one thing I'm not is deluded. I know who and what I am, and I know my daughter, despite what she may think. I'm a thief, and my baby girl is nothing like me. _

She loved Jake more than her own life, but she knew he had flaws, and a lack of empathy when his own interests conflicted was definitely one of them.

Lianne touched his arm, self-consciously waiting for the disgusted look that Celeste would inevitably shoot her way. "Jake, did you ever ask yourself _why _she took it?"

"Easy. Money." He seemed completely convinced in her daughter's avarice.

"Do you honestly think she planned to sell it to the highest bidder? She doesn't have a mercenary nature. If she'd wanted money, she could have sold you out to the tabloids years ago." Lianne looked at the empty chair in front of her and then over to Celeste, who just rolled her shoulders in an irritated shrug, wordlessly granting permission to sit. "And believe me – she needed money then – desperately."

She smiled appreciatively at her boyfriend's wife and sank into the chair opposite her.

Celeste cleared her throat and eyed Lianne with skepticism. "How badly could she have needed the money? I had just written her a check for $50,000 earlier that year."

_Every time I think about stealing that check I feel like breaking every mirror in my house so I'll never have to look myself in the eyes again._

Lianne wore this terrible secret like a pair of lead shoes for years. She so badly wanted absolution, wanted to unburden her conscience, but could never work up the nerve to tell Jake. What if he looked at her differently? What if he didn't want her anymore? What would she do then?

_I can't lose him._

She hadn't planned to say anything, but she couldn't just have him thinking badly of her daughter. Better her, than Veronica. Her child was the only good thing she ever produced in her life, and she wouldn't let him malign her name. "I took it."

She heard a metal chair screeching back from the table, against the marble floor. "You what?" Celeste snapped.

_Time to face the music._

Lianne turned toward her with her head lowered. "I took the check out of her bag the last time I left them. That was the same night Aaron tried to..." She couldn't finish that thought, because the memory was too horrific for her to bear.

Finding out your daughter had almost been murdered and your husband nearly burned alive just hours after you'd left town with all of their money is not the kind of guilt a person can just get past. She'd wanted to be there for Veronica, but after what she'd done, there was no going back. Besides, there was no way she would have been anything more than a burden to them in her condition then. Still, the knowledge of what she'd done and not done haunted her.

_She deserved better than what I could give. They both did._

Jake shook his head wildly. "I don't believe it. You're just covering for her."

"She spent her entire college savings sending me to rehab and I – I left early. Then, once they'd tracked down Duncan, the reward money was this lifeline, a new way for her to pay for college." She swallowed thickly and looked at her feet. "And then I took that from her too. I didn't know where to go or what to do. I had no money or skills, no idea what would happen to me if I walked out of there with nothing...except I ended up leaving them with less than nothing as a result. Keith's medical bills were enormous." She shook her head shamefully. "I know it's not a good excuse, but it's the truth."

In a matter of seconds, Jake was at her side, rubbing her back. "Why didn't you just tell me?"

Lianne made eye contact with Celeste. "You were trying to get your marriage back on track. I didn't want to interfere."

Celeste snorted a laugh and then took another sip of tea.

"I'm a terrible person," she said quietly, agreeing with her critic.

Jake knelt by her chair, kissed the side of her head and drew her close, which only made Celeste bristle. "You're not a terrible person. You were desperate."

"_She_ was desperate, Jake, and she had a right to be. I saw the video. If it had been Lilly..." her words trailed off as she realized that there _had _been a sex video of Lilly almost leaked, and one of her crime scene that actually was. "Anyway, if you were her father, instead of the man carousing with the jerk who violated her by filming her, you would have been on her side. She needed leverage to keep the Sorokins from hurting the only person who fought for her honor. She needed to protect herself."

"A good lot that did." Jake ran a hand over his face and sighed.

Celeste blinked rapidly and set down her glass again. She was clearly shaken at the turn of events, and Lianne wondered if the woman had developed a genuine sympathy for her daughter after all. "I...I knew about the break-in, obviously, but I had no idea why she'd done it. I just assumed...revenge. I hadn't realized it was blackmail. Revenge is a waste of time and effort, but blackmail, especially for a good cause...that, I can respect."

_Ugh. How was Jake ever married to this shrew?_

Jake looked suitably shamed, leaned his head against her shoulder. "Clarence, I'd like you to have a replacement check cut for Veronica and Keith Mars."

Wiedman's eyes shifted with concern toward Celeste and then back to his boss. "Which one of them should I have it addressed to?"

"Both. I want you to send a separate check to each of them for the full amount. And make sure they both include five years of interest."

It was moments like these that solidified to Lianne why she'd fallen in love with Jake so many years ago. He may not always do the right thing at first, but he usually came around in the end.

Jake cupped Lianne's face and smiled. "I know how much it must've taken for you to tell me that, and I'm proud of you."

_Thank God._

Out of her peripheral vision, she could see Celeste rolling her eyes.

"I'll just be in my office for a while, if you need me." He kissed her cheek and walked out of the room.

Lianne's eyes connected with Celeste's, and she felt the pressure build in her throat until she had to speak. "How is she?"

Celeste tipped her head. "She's doing quite well, actually."

Lianne cast her eyes downward and nodded as if reassuring herself that the words were true. "Did she seem...happy?"

Her nemesis sighed. "Honestly, Lianne, why don't you just ask her yourself. She's _your_ daughter, not mine."

Lianne continued looking at the floor and smiled sadly. "Maybe you could remind her of that fact next time you speak with her. I've tried everything, but she won't – she won't see me."

_Admitting this is almost as embarrassing as admitting to theft. My own daughter wants nothing to do with me._

Celeste reclined in her chair, looking every bit the patrician, making Lianne feel like a commoner. "Not to throw your own words back at you dear, but have you asked yourself _why _she won't talk to you?"

_No, and I can't, because I'm too weak to hear the answer._

* * *

Logan was driving his FJ Cruiser exactly five full miles below the speed limit. Normally, the only time he'd be driving this slow is if he were getting a hand job from the person sitting shotgun, but nobody was sitting shotgun today. He did have a beautiful girl in his back seat, though.

Today, he was officially a guardian, and it scared the hell out of him.

"I miss daddy." Lilly sighed wistfully from the high-perched booster chair in the middle of the car.

_Funny. I had quite the opposite reaction every time my dad left town for an extended trip away._

"I do too, kid. But we're going to have a blast doing things together, and before you know it, he'll be back." Logan's heart contracted with sorrow for his little charge.

A wide-set pair of blue eyes observed Logan suspiciously through the rear view mirror. "Where are we going?"

He could feel his hands getting sweaty and wondered how a seven year old could manage to put the fear of God into him with one look.

_Lilly Sr. wouldn't have just been proud of her niece, she'd have been impressed. _

"Uh...I thought...do you want to go to a photo shoot for a real magazine?" He tried to smile, but he knew it just came off looking manic. "Doesn't that sound like fun?"

_It shouldn't be this hard to lie to a kid. What the hell is wrong with me?_

She looked at him blankly, and he could feel his skittish demeanor being assessed, so he tried to force his face slack.

"Somebody is taking your picture?" she asked innocently enough, tilting her head to the side in question.

_Did she pick that up from Veronica or something?_

"Uh...no. Just a...um...friend. Yeah. A friend asked me if I'd drop by, you know, as a favor." He exhaled a tense breath and grinned stupidly at her again. "You in?"

"Daddy doesn't let anybody but him take my picture." She gave him a warning look.

"Of course. I don't want my picture taken either," he reassured, trying not to upset her.

_How am I this easily whipped?_

Lilly twisted a lock of her flaxen hair around an index finger and appeared bored. "What am I going to do there?"

"Be with me?" Logan gave her a hopeful look and tried to work his charm. "I'm always a good time."

"I guess..." She let her head drop back and she stared at the ceiling. "Which friend?"

_Fuck._

"Just somebody I went to school with. You don't know them."

_Obviously! You're slacking, man, get it together!_

"Does daddy know him?" she asked, looking directly into Logan's eyes.

_Him? God, this is more torturous than a proctology exam. I need to buck up._

He tried to sound casual as he slowed down for a red light. "Her, actually, and yes, your daddy knows her."

"Does Auntie Vee?" Lilly had a hint of a smile on her lips, and he could almost swear that she was asking him these things, just to see him squirm.

_Honestly, dude. Stick with the truth...well, the least descriptive version of the truth. Cover your ass, because if Ronnie catches you and then finds out you lied to Lilly, it will be like taking a shit on top of a dumpster._

"Yeah Lilly, she does, but they're not exactly friends."

The child considered this answer for a moment, and then thoughtfully replied. "She must be really stupid and mean then, because Auntie Vee is super cool."

Logan laughed, and mentally praised her powers of deduction. "Yep. You nailed it. She's as stupid and mean as they get, but I owe her a favor."

Lilly made a face to signify her displeasure. "Won't Auntie Vee be mad if you help this stupid girl?"

He wished for a moment that Lilly hadn't inherited the Kane brilliance. It was like she could read his mind. "As a matter of fact, she _would _be beyond pissed off, which was why I was hoping we could just keep this between us. You can keep a secret can't you, sweetheart?"

She regarded him with amusement. "You mean like keeping my real name a secret for my whole life? Yeah, I'm pretty good at secrets, Uncle Lo. Even Grandma says so."

_Well, if Celeste thinks you're a good liar..._

"So...how about we keep this special little secret just between us?" He smiled brilliantly at her.

_Turn up the charm offensive. Blondes love you – even the tiny ones (especially the tiny ones)._

"Maybe..." She put a finger to her chin. "I think if I had something fun to play with in my room later, I probably would be too distracted to think about what you don't want me to say, so much."

_Is this a shakedown?_

Logan released a sound halfway between a gasp and a guffaw. "You want something, don't you? Alright, let's hear your terms."

"I really think an Xbox would be a good distraction, don't you?" She batted her lashes at him in the mirror.

_What a piece of work! Seriously, how is this child from the loins of Meg and Duncan? She had to have been cloned from her aunt's cells and then hatched. It's the only explanation._

He couldn't let her beat him this quickly. If he showed weakness this soon in her stay, she'd know she could just walk right over him. "We already have an Xbox in the house, sweetie."

She looked directly at him with a laser-like focus. "We don't have one in_ my_ bedroom."

Logan tried to stare her down, but knew it was a futile effort. This girl was a pro, and he was a little in awe of her. Skill like that deserved to be rewarded. "I think we can probably work something out. You have to promise to keep your mouth shut about this Lilly, seriously. Auntie Vee _really_ doesn't like this girl, she was very mean to her in school."

Lilly's brow furrowed. "Then why are we going? I don't want to make Auntie Vee sad."

"She'll only be sad if _you _tell her. What she doesn't know, won't make her sad, right? You don't want to upset her, do you?"

If there wasn't already a nice, comfy chair in hell all laid out for him, they would definitely be setting one up for him now. Logan's own reflection in the rear view mirror was making him feel sick.

He thought about his unborn child, who was only the size of a pea right now, and how Lilly had once been as small and as innocent as a pea as well. The idea that anybody could one day corrupt his sweet pea the way he was trying to manipulate Lilly right now, made his heart palpitate.

"You move that Xbox into my bedroom so I can practice, and I'm sure I'll be too busy playing games to mess up and say anything to her. I wouldn't want to make her sad." Lilly flipped her hair and looked out of the window at the passing scenery.

_Playing games? You don't need the practice, Lilly. Believe me, you're all set._

"Uncle Logan?" Lilly shifted in her seat. "You said this girl was mean to Auntie Vee, so...I'm going to be mean back to this girl. Daddy says everybody should always follow 'the golden rule'. That's okay, right?"

_You know, I think even Duncan would approve if Lilly were a bitch to Madison._

He laughed as they pulled into the studio parking lot. "I wouldn't have it any other way, sweetie."

* * *

As Logan walked onto the set for the US Weekly photo shoot, he instinctively reached out and grabbed Lilly's hand tighter than he'd ever held anything before.

"Ow! You're crushing my hand, Uncle Lo." Lilly pulled her hand out of his and shook it out.

"Sorry." He winced at her expression and dropped to his knees to examine her hand, then shook his head in sadness and frowned. "I think we're going to need to amputate."

"What's amu - - whatever you just said?" She raised an eyebrow.

"It means, cut your hand off!" He mercilessly tickled the girl until she doubled over in a fit of giggles.

A snappish-looking intern shot them both a sharp look and power-walked across the room in their direction, her ass clenching tighter with each step.

_This should be fun._

Logan quickly kissed Lilly's injured hand and straightened up to a standing position. "Remember, whatever you do, do _not_ tell anybody we don't already know who you really are," he warned, out of the side of his mouth.

"I know that," she whispered back with irritation.

"Seriously, do not trust anybody in this room but me. I don't care how nice they look or how shiny their hair is. These people are leeches." He ran a hand through his own hair nervously and plastered on a smile.

_A school of fucking remora. All of them._

Logan was no stranger to the world of celebrity. Having had two A-list movie stars for parents, almost every one of his actions – both good or bad (but usually bad) – had been reported on for the world to consume and ridicule.

Though he still had to deal with the press during book tours and literary events, they were usually tightly controlled situations. He'd seen to that personally. After enduring the media shitstorm that was his life for so long, the idea of giving out any personal information willingly was about as appealing to him as dental surgery without the anesthesia. Maybe even less so.

_I wonder what the least amount of time I can stay and still get the list from Madison? She had better have the list, because if she's messing with me, I will make her even more miserable than she already is._

With dark hair severely slicked back into a painful-looking pony tail, and a scowl that could rival Veronica's most incendiary 'bitchface', Logan already picked up on the set's vibe and it was not good. This was not a friendly place, it was more like a work camp. A place where kids fresh out of college had their dreams abused, slaving for pennies with no form of health care, for the mere opportunity of having proximity to fame.

He couldn't really blame the intern for dispensing with the pleasantries, he sure as hell wouldn't be chipper if he were in her place. "I'm sorry, this is a closed set."

Logan gave her a rakish smile before speaking. "We're on the list."

The intern snidely looked down at Lilly and then back up at Logan again, clearly irritated by their presence. "Name?"

"Logan Echolls. She's my 'plus one'." He waited for the switch to click, as it usually did for people about five seconds after he'd told anyone his name, and this young woman was no different. Her attitude improved tenfold immediately.

"Oh. Oh!" Her eyes lit up and an authentic look of welcoming crossed her face. "Yes, of course, Mr. Echolls. Sorry, I didn't recognize you at first. Just follow me."

_She didn't recognize me? I'm not sure whether to be grateful or insulted._

He briefly wondered if maybe she only recognized his name from his books and didn't recall the face from the picture on the back cover, but then reminded himself that half of these people probably couldn't read, despite working for a national publication.

Logan nudged Lilly, then pointed at the intern's back and make the universal gesture for barfing. The first-grader laughed so hard that Logan nearly pulled something as he lunged to cup his hand over her mouth.

Perched on the edge of a wedding banquet table, with her index finger knuckle-deep into the top layer of a three-tiered cake, sat Madison Sinclair, resplendent in a flamingo-hued, Chanel suit. Her eyes grew wide when she noticed Logan's arrival and she leapt down from her position, wiping her finger off on the back of one of the unaware prop guys as she skipped over.

_God lord. This already might be the worst experience I've ever had on a set, and considering I once had to sit for a family photo with two broken ribs and a dislocated shoulder that had to be popped back into place in order for me to wrap my arm around my mother, that's saying something._

"Logan! You made it!" She squealed abrasively and purposely too loud, before throwing herself dramatically into his arms and nearly hugging the life out of him.

_I can't believe I actually put my dick in this. Suddenly, I have a new appreciation for booze-induced blackouts._

He would have been alarmed, if he hadn't already been anticipating this kind of over-greeting. After all, the Bravo execs were probably nearby, and if he had learned anything from his sister Trina, it was that the press hears those who scream the loudest, because they drown out everybody around them. Most people didn't have the patience or intelligence for subtlety.

He noticed a pair of well-dressed gay men whispering quietly to each other while eying his exchange with their potential star.

_Ah yes, the Bravo suits...right on schedule._

Madison kissed him once on each cheek before finally letting him go. "You came at the perfect moment!" She latched onto his forearm with her typical, vice-like grip and dragged him toward her intended audience, paying no mind to the small blonde child standing next to him.

Logan jerked his arm back enough to slow her down. "Madsion, I'm not here alone." He angled his head in the direction of Lilly, who greeted Madison with an almost mocking smile and an overly coy wave.

_Seriously, has she had lessons? Are all the kids in Singapore like middle-aged actresses from the 1940's?_

He made a mental note to put Singapore on his list of places to visit.

Madison's confused look devolved into ire for a split second, before she regained what rigid control she still had over her face, and beamed in faux-elation at the sight of Lilly. "Look who we have here!"

Lilly's eyes shifted nervously to Logan's for a moment, but before she could say anything, she'd been swept up into Madison's unyielding embrace.

_Gross. Duncan would be most displeased about this. _

Logan stepped in immediately and took the girl into his own arms, before urging her to climb onto his back. Madison approached the twosome once more and caressed a lock of Lilly's hair awkwardly, as if examining the texture for a possible wig, and used the girl as cover to speak closely with him.

"What are you doing? This wasn't part of the deal," she hissed into his ear, somehow making the conversation look as playful to observers as it was unpleasant to him.

"It is now."

Madison looked up at the little one. "Oh God. She isn't yours and Ve-ron-i-ca's?" she asked with a repulsed tone, drawing out every syllable of his girlfriend's name as if it were hard to unleash the sounds from her tongue without vomiting.

"She's seven, Madison. Do you remember Veronica being pregnant in high school? Do the math." Logan tugged at his sleeves and tried his best not to lose his cool. "You did pass math, right?"

"How am I supposed to know if she was knocked up? I mean, she got around enough." Her hand flew through the air dismissively and continued her tirade. "I mean...like, nobody knew that Meg was pregnant, and we all saw her in her tight cheerleading outfit every day. If the Chastity Queen of Neptune High can get herself into 'trouble', then certainly anybody can...especially somebody as _well-traveled _as your class-challenged, lady friend."

Logan was shocked into silence for the first time in his life. The idea that she had the ability to say such insulting things in front of a small _child_ really floored him.

_No wonder Ronnie was so pissed off about me fucking this bitch. Who the hell does she think she is talking about my girlfriend that way? If she were a dude, I'd have knocked her out by now. _

If it were possible for him to be more ashamed of his behavior, five years in retrospect, he had pretty much accomplished that with little-to-no effort.

Before he could think of an appropriate response that wouldn't get him arrested, the child riding on his back piped in. "My grandma has that suit. It looks pretty on her."

_Oh my God, I'm in love!_

"Your grandma...what?" Madison was flustered and Logan felt Lilly's little fingers nudge his shoulder from behind.

"Oh, not the exact same suit, 'cause grandma is smaller than you." Lilly smiled innocently at Madison. "You look pretty in it too...I guess."

Madison's eyes narrowed indignantly at Logan. "She has to be Veronica's. There is no other explanation."

Lilly jumped into the conversation once more. "Veronica is my aunt, and she knows how to shoot a gun and how to kill somebody by just using her thumb. She's like, an awesome cartoon superhero."

Madison bit down on her back teeth and nodded wordlessly, playing along. "She sounds_ real _awesome, kid."

_Please tell me somebody is recording this._

Once Logan was able to regain his wits, it hit him that not only had Lilly heard Madison talking smack about Veronica, but about her own mother as well. His stomach plummeted.

_When this is over and I've got my list of client names, I'm going to make it a point to give Madison what she's got coming to her. _

As he watched her strange interaction with his goddaughter, his heart swelled with malevolence.

_Man, this would be right up Ronnie's alley. Screwing with Madison would make her so happy, and really, there's nobody better at revenge than my girl. But unless I want to sleep in the spare room alone until I'm sharing it with our child, I'm going to keep my mouth shut...about everything._

Logan thought about their baby and knew he was doing the right thing by keeping this secret. Veronica didn't need any more stress than she already had.

This was about finding out who was stalking him and putting an end to it. He needed to keep his family safe, and if he had to play ball with Madison in order to do it, he would grab his catcher's glove and head out onto the field.

"Like, seriously Logan. Where's Ve-ron-i-ca? She can't watch her own niece for five minutes?" Madison sneered with only her eyes, careful to keep her face looking relaxed and happy for the Bravo guys. "Her niece, huh? I always thought she was an only child. I mean, I would have totally stopped too, if that's what I ended up with."

_Redrum!_

"She is an only child. I am watching a close _friend's_ child." He glared at her, amazed by her lack of speed on the uptake. "A friend who has been out of the country for a long time and needs us to watch his daughter while he's away for six months."

_She knows Duncan just went to jail and anybody with eyeballs can see his little girl looks exactly like his sister, so what is taking her so long to get it? Contrary to popular belief, she really isn't as stupid as she looks._

"Who the hell leaves their kid for six months unless they're...?" Madison's mouth formed an 'O' as her gaze drifted upward toward the little girl on his back. "She really looks like - -"

"I know." Lilly laid her head down on Logan's shoulder and he tightened his grip around her thighs. "Look, nobody finds out who she really is, got it? It's for her protection...and for yours." His cautioning stare burned hotly into her and she took a step back, as if to avoid getting burned.

"God, I'm not a monster, Logan. I won't say anything, okay? No need to go all 'Aaron Echolls' on me." A beauty pageant smile appeared and she tilted her chin down in a calculated attempt to appear alluring, then her spiteful eyes flicked up to Lilly's. "I'm Madison. Your aunt was pretty cool, you're lucky you look like her." She held her hand out to greet Lilly, who simply looked down at it emptily, not even bothering to lift her head from Logan's shoulder. He could not have been prouder of her at that moment, even if she'd been his own child.

"I'm Molly."

"She's a charmer, Logan. Really." Madison open and closed her hand to make it look as if she were doing carpal tunnel exercises. He guessed it was less embarrassing than being blanked by a child whose age had yet to reach double digits. She then pretended to hear a voice in the distance. "Oh, I think I'm needed on the set."

"What about my list?" Logan asked, not breaking his intensity.

"You'll get what you came for. Good things come to those who wait." She winked and ruffled Lilly's hair, causing the girl to frown. Then, she ambushed Logan with a smack on the lips, turned on her heel and walked back toward the set. "I'm ready for my close-up!"

_Something tells me they'll end up going with the wide-shot._

Lilly cleared her throat and Logan seriously wished he could dig himself a hole to hide in.

"Sorry, sweetie. That was..." He grimaced, unable to go on.

_What could I possibly say that would make any part of that encounter remotely okay?_

"She said 'Meg'."

_Fuck fuck fuck. _

His knee started to bounce frenetically.

"Was she talking about my mommy? Did she know my mommy?" she whispered urgently into Logan's ear. Every time he heard her voice the word 'mommy', he died a little inside. "You're making me dizzy, Uncle Logan, stop with the leg."

_She grew up without Meg, and the little she knows about her mom she learns from Madison Sinclair? What made me think this was a good idea?_

He swallowed the dry lump in his throat and tried to answer her honestly, and with the least amount of detail necessary. "We all went to school together, that's pretty much it." Lilly dug her chin into his shoulder. "Okay okay, what else do you want to know? Jeez, you're like a wood tick back there, burrowing in."

Lilly would not be diverted. "Why did she call my mommy a...some kind of queen?"

_Chastity Queen? Yeah, turns out, she wasn't as much of one as we all thought. You are example A._

"Your mommy was very beautiful, just like you. Each year she was elected to be on the royal court for Homecoming and Prom, which is kind of like the kids in the school voting her the most beautiful and nicest girl in the whole world. And she really was. Auntie Vee really loved your mommy." He took a breath and hoped that Lilly bought his lame explanation. Flattery was usually his best distraction technique, where women were concerned.

_Well, flattery and sex...but since he's wasn't a degenerate and she wasn't her aunt, that second one wasn't on the menu. _

"Oh." Lilly sounded relieved, and he felt the knot in his stomach slowly begin to uncoil. "But...what did Madison mean when she said that Auntie Vee 'got around'?"

_That encounter is just the gift that keeps on giving._

The hairs on Logan's neck snapped to attention and the knot in his gut began to tighten up once again. "Uh...you hungry?"

"Can we get ice cream?" she asked excitedly.

* * *

Wallace sat in the driver's seat of his car and let it idle. He hadn't been waiting too long, but any amount of time waiting for Logan Echolls was one minute too long in his book. Though, if he were honest with himself, he'd admit that his relationship with the guy had recently grown beyond tolerable and moved squarely within the scope of friendship. He wasn't as bad as he used to be. In fact, Wallace thought he was a pretty good hang.

Judging by the rapid speed and intensity in which Echolls had wormed his way back into his step-sister's life, he had a feeling he was going to be stuck with him for the next fifty years, so it was convenient that they'd finally found some common ground.

_That still don't explain why I'm the one whose ass is waiting in a parking lot when he's the one getting the favor. Where the hell is he?_

As if by magic, Logan emerged from the lobby of the building holding hands with Lilly Kane, who bounced beside him, holding a waffle cone filled to the brim with a whopping scoop of cookies and cream.

_Oh, hell to the no. He didn't mention anything about bringing little girls along for the ride._

As the duo reached Wallace's car, Logan held a sheet of paper up triumphantly in his left hand.

Wallace lowered the driver's side window.

"Hey papa bear!" Lilly chirped, glad to see him.

He looked at her blankly than shook his head. "No. I don't even want Veronica calling me that. We're not making this a thing with us." He gestured between them.

"Lighten up, _papa bear_." Logan's face lit up like it was Christmas morning. "I got the list of names. It isn't long, so we should be able to get through it fairly quickly."

_Now he's saying it? Maybe I need to rethink this whole friendship deal?_

"By we you mean..." Wallace looked the little girl up and now skeptically.

Logan smirked and threw his hand forward. "Oh, you won't even notice her."

"Right...because that one is a wallflower." Apprehension was written plainly across Wallace's face.

"What do you want me to do, leave her in the parking lot?" Logan leaned on the frame of the car and poked his head through the window. "Come on, man, she Duncan's kid. You know where's he's going today."

Wallace's expression softened and he relented.

_Poor guy gets his life back only to lose it all over again. _

"What happened to your girlfriend? She go with him?"

Logan sighed. "Probably hanging a Rita Hayworth poster in Duncan's cell to hide the tunnel she dug to the outside for him."

Wallace chuckled. "Yeah. Sounds like her."

"Just park your car and come with us," he urged.

"What's wrong with my car?"

"No booster seat." Logan glanced at Lilly, who was contentedly licking the ice cream that was dripping down the side of her cone.

"I'm precious cargo, papa bear. That's what Uncle Logan says." Completely ignoring the mass on top, she tried sucking the ice cream out of the small hole in the cone's bottom, oblivious to the sticky liquid dripping down both of her forearms.

"Isn't she precious?" Logan offered his friend a shit-eating grin.

Wallace eyed the girl warily. "You sure you should be feeding her sugar? She look like she do okay on her own without it."

Logan pulled a wad of napkins he had stuffed into the pocket of his jeans and began handing them to her, one by one. "Well, she _is_ sweet."

_This is gonna be a long car ride._

* * *

**A/N2 - WHAT DID YOU THINK?**

**Okay, to answer your questions before you even ask: **

**1) I know there's no MaDi, but I just completely ran out of time - this is probably the biggest chapter I've written yet. I ****_promise _****you will get your fix in the next one and I'll make it good**

**2) Yes, I really do dislike Lianne more than Celeste, and am working on a Celeste redemption arc. If you think about it, Celeste probably understands Veronica way more than her mother, because they are similar (overprotective of loved ones, vengeful, prickly, devious, etc) **

**3) My goal is to get a Keith dinner scene in the next chapter so V can tell him, though it may happen another way**

**4) Weevil love you long time in the next chapter.**

**5) Duncan has a BIG storyline coming up, so fasten your seatbelts! (Do you like him again?)**

**6) The only reason Logan mentioned Lilly's identity to Madison, is because she already knew Duncan was A) Back in Neptune, B) Going to prison for 'kidnapping', and C) That Lilly was his/Meg's love child - so he assumed she would figure it out eventually and wanted to let her know to keep her mouth shut about it.**

**PS - As always big upps to silverlining2k6 for the hand-holding and beta par excellence.**

**PPS - I will invite you to my son's 4th birthday party if you leave a review. We're having red velvet cake and pizza. You know you're tempted... **


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N - Thanks for all of the birthday wishes for my little guy. He had such a great time, and is unusually proud to be four.**

**Every time I post a chapter, I find myself shocked by the things you liked/disliked. I figured everybody would like reading about Lilly/Logan, but I had no idea how many of you would end up enjoying the Celeste/Jake scene. I was so sure you'd all hate it!**

**Thanks again to all who left feedback - it really is an invaluable learning tool and one of the main reasons I love writing so much. It's gets me really excited about the story when I know you're right there with me :)**

**I want to give a special shout out to petpluto, who doesn't have an account here (otherwise, I'd PM) and left some nice reviews. If you haven't read any of her work over at 'archive of our own', you should definitely check it out - especially if you're a fan of Weevil. She gives good Weevil.**

* * *

Previously: Veronica rode with Duncan to the courthouse to turn himself in. He all but told her that he was responsible for killing Aaron. She offered him that last kiss he wanted, but he refused, citing his acceptance of her relationship with Logan - finally giving them closure. Celeste screwed Jake out of seeing Duncan off in the morning, and then mentioned Veronica was with him, which prompted a discussion with Lianne about her daughter. Lianne admitted to Jake and Celeste that she stole the bounty fee, and Jake decided to send out new checks to both Keith and Veronica, as a bid to ease Lianne's feelings of guilt. Logan took Lilly with him to Madison's photo shoot. While they were there, Madison ran her mouth about Meg and said nasty things about Veronica, and Lilly put her in her place. Logan got the list of names from Mad., then met Wallace outside of the studio to do some reconnaissance work.

* * *

**CHAPTER 10**

Veronica and Duncan walked into the Neptune Municipal Courthouse hand-in-clammy-hand.

As they strode across the smooth, marble floor of the cavernous lobby, Duncan's pulse began to race.

_This is really happening._

"You okay there, slim?" Veronica squeezed his hand, jolting him back to the present.

He worked his jaw and tried to remain stoic. "Not sure I'd use the word okay..."

A large bailiff struggled to transport a young Latino thug, wearing shackles on both his arms and legs, across the grand hall. It was just beyond the security gate, but from the way Duncan flinched, anyone might have assumed the skirmish was happening next to him. He let out a shuddering breath.

"Hey, it's going to be cake." Veronica wrapped an arm around his trim waist. "I've got you covered, remember?"

_Right after she found out that I lied to her about Meg's pregnancy, she still chose to risk her future for me. Last month, she did again with Petrenko - and even now, when she should be at home convalescing - here she is._

Their eyes met and he couldn't help but smile. "It's ridiculous how much I'm depending on you right now."

"The whole thing is pretty ridiculous, if you ask me." She made an unhappy face. "But rest assured, I've got my best man on it."

"We're still talking about Weevil?" Duncan watched admiringly as Veronica let loose with one of her megawatt smiles. He followed her gaze across the room, to just the other side of the security checkpoint, where an alert-looking Keith Mars stood scanning the crowd, dressed in his full sheriff's uniform.

Veronica lifted her hand and curled her fingers in her father's direction.

"Hello Agent Mars, I didn't think I be seeing you back here so soon."

Duncan was startled by the voice of the heavy set guard in the next check-in lane.

Veronica recognized her instantly and grinned. "I couldn't stay away."

The guard was manning the x-ray machine, but didn't hesitate to stop her duties to pull them from their line into the front of her lane as soon as she saw the young Fed.

Grumbling erupted from the people now waiting in line behind them.

_She's been back in town less than two months and she's already getting preferential treatment? Typical Veronica._

"You know how it is. I just go where they tell me." Veronica shrugged and pulled her gun from its holster.

The guard eyed Duncan suspiciously. "What happened to the guy with the arms? He still in the picture?"

Veronica giggled and Duncan realized then that he'd barely heard her laugh since she'd come home from the hospital. "Always. He's following around another blonde today. You know how men are. Fickle."

"Seriously?"

"No, he's just babysitting my friend's seven year old daughter," she said, hooking her thumb in Duncan's direction.

"Did you tell him about..." The larger lady let her eyes drop to Veronica's belly.

_Tell who about what? Leave it to Veronica to even have a secret with the guard at the courthouse. Her mind is packed with more proprietary information than J. Edgar Hoover's personal briefcase._

"Yeah." Suddenly flustered, Veronica placed her gun and clip on the conveyor belt. "Do you need to check this into the safe today or just register it?"

"I still have your serial number in the system. Since you're a government employee, I can just scan it, put it through the machine and you can take it with you inside, this time. Our protocol is generally not to allow anybody but active law enforcement to being firearms inside, but I'm willing to make an exception, since you have high security clearance and you've been here before."

The guard scrolled through a group of serial numbers on her tablet until she found Veronica's, then cross-checked it with the weapon scanner. A pleasant beep sounded aloud at the match. "There. Now, you can take it with you."

Veronica contemplated the gun in her hands. "Huh, and see, I was always told you _can't _take it with you."

Duncan groaned at her bad joke.

She punched him lightly in the shoulder. "I'm working on an empty stomach here."

"I call BS on that. You ate breakfast, Veronica, I witnessed it myself."

"Yeah, but if you had let us stop at Cho's on the way like I wanted to, I'd be, like, Comic Strip-level hilarious." She pouted out her bottom lip.

Duncan sighed and peered down at her. "They weren't open yet. Most people don't want pizza at 9am."

"That's their problem."

"Some of us have places to be..." A teenage cholita with a brown ring and a Mother Mary tattoo imprinted on the center of her chest tapped her heavy boot.

Veronica sheepishly twisted her body toward the girl. "Sorry."

The guard interrupted the tense moment by clearing her throat. "Okay, _Agent _Mars, do you want a body search like last time?"

"God, I hate these checkpoints." Duncan scrunched up his face. "Why don't you just walk through the machines? It's faster that way."

"I can't." The bottom lip she formerly had hanging out was now tucked neatly between her teeth. "I can't go through with the gun."

_But she just registered your gun? What?_

"Didn't you just - -?"

"It's better this way. More thorough."

Duncan rubbed his hand over his face. He could feel his muscles tighten the closer they got to his destination.

_Veronica Mars opting for the more time-consuming activity? Something in the sauce ain't right. Why is she so adverse to walking through the x-ray machine? _

He gave her a doubting look.

"Well, we've now wasted more time talking about it than doing it." Veronica sounded irritated, but her tone lacked a certain bite. She took off her blazer and held her arms aloft. "Anyway, since when are you in such a hurry to get to jail?"

"I just want to get this over with." He checked his watch for the time and sighed his annoyance. "I remember how much I hated having to do this so many times a day during Lilly's trial. 'Let the memory live again'!" he sang, slightly off-key.

At the signal from the other guard on duty, Duncan walked through the metal detector, then turned around and eyed Veronica suspiciously as the guard hovered the wand over the back of her jean skirt. "I'm done before you are? That's a shocker."

"Don't get your panties in a bunch."

The security guard flashed her new acquaintance a pair of sympathetic eyes. "You're all clear."

Veronica dramatically wiped her brow with the back of her hand. "Thanks, officer."

The older woman bobbed her head at Veronica. "Hey, next time you're here, you should bring the other one – the nice arms guy - he complained less."

"Maybe in front of you. Believe me, Logan is not shy when it comes to complaining in the comfort of his own living room."

The guard furrowed her brow with concern. "Your boyfriend, he didn't complain about..."

"No." Veronica cut her off, before a dreamy expression crossed her face. "He had quite the opposite reaction, actually. It was...unexpected."

_Complain about what? What was unexpected?_

"I'm glad to hear that."

"Thanks." She straightened her jacket and smiled at Duncan, who was kicking the ground like a kid. "Come on, time is a'wastin."

His head flipped up, with an incredulous look. "You're the one who - -"

"I just prefer to the metal detector to getting irradiated. X-rays aren't exactly healthy." Veronica twisted her lips nervously with her fingers.

_The woman brings a gun to work, but she's worried about the danger posed by radiation levels that are dwarfed by a dental x-ray?_

The metal detector alarm went off as the chola walked through it.

"For pregnant ladies, maybe. The level you get from one of those machine is perfectly fine for normal adults like us, though." He shook his head at her strange affectation. It wasn't like her to sweat random stuff like that.

Duncan observed the guard waving the metal-detector wand over the chola's midriff and something in his brain clicked things into place.

_No. She can't be..._

"Pops!" Veronica quickened her pace and fell into her father's open arms. "Ooh. Careful, I've got a piece strapped to my left side."

"I liked your Brownie uniform better than this." Keith lifted the flap of her blazer and frowned at the gun.

"Oh, I don't know, I have a feeling I would have sold several more boxes of Samoas if I'd been packing back then. People have a genuinely hard time saying no to a ten year old blonde wielding a Glock."

Duncan wagged his finger at her. "You wouldn't have needed a gun if you'd been pushing Thin Mints instead."

He smiled at an old memory of Veronica at age 12, wearing a brown beret.

_When I get out, I'm going to sign Lilly up for the Brownies. She deserves to be doing 'normal girl' things for once. _

Keith stroked the side of his daughters hair and looked at her with curiosity. "What's different about you? You look different."

"Moi?" Veronica pointed to her own chest. "It's probably all that meth I've been snorting. Word has it, meth has an adverse affect on the way you look. If _somebody_ had just informed me, I would have switched to heroin a lot earlier." Veronica looked at her father with disappointment. "You're my dad, it's kind of your job to teach me these things."

"What can I say? I'm a slacker." Keith turned up his palms and shrugged in her direction, before turning his attention toward Duncan. "You ready, champ?"

_No._

Duncan expelled a long breath. "Let's do this."

"I'll give you two a minute to say goodbye." Keith rested a hand on the young man's back then disappeared into the background to give them privacy.

"You're not coming?" he asked Veronica, a shock of panic rocketing through his broad frame.

She shook her head. "You have to do this part alone, but I arranged for you to have the best police escort in the world."

_This really is it, then?_

Veronica threaded her arms under his and wrapped her hands around his back. He cradled her head as she burrowed it into his chest. "Take care of my baby, okay?"

She nodded silently, her labored breathing tickling his neck as she held on tighter to his waist.

"And take care of _your_ baby..." he whispered into her ear.

She instantly became rigid in his arms. "How did you...?"

"The x-ray machine, the vomiting all week, Logan's sudden turnaround this morning...it doesn't take a genius to put it all together." He smiled into her cheek. "I'm really happy for you."

"Thanks...but hey, please don't mention it to anybody yet. I haven't had a chance to tell my father."

"I won't tell a soul in the prison yard, no matter how many cigarettes they try to bribe me with." He held her closer and buried his face into her hair, inhaling her scent for the last time. The way she smelled was comforting to him. It always had been, but everything was different now.

Veronica would always remind him of home, but she was no longer _his _home, and he was strangely okay with that.

_I've loved you for half of my life, and I know I'll love you for the rest if it, but even I can see that maybe you're better off with him. Maybe we both need somebody like Logan, someone who accepts all of our flaws without judgment? _

"You and Echolls procreating, eh? Would you be offended if I told you that I'm a little frightened for the world at large?" Her laughter vibrated against his chest.

"You and me both, Donut." Veronica held his face in her hands and softly kissed his lips. It was chaste, yet full of heavy emotion. "I...I love you, okay? You're not alone in there, remember that."

_Wish that were really true._

He nodded and then reluctantly released her, like an exaltation of wedding doves being thrust into freedom. "I'll see you in a week?"

"Bright and early Sunday morning..._every _Sunday morning." She saluted him, then nodded to her father to take him away.

* * *

As Duncan turned the corner into the next corridor, Veronica wrapped her arms around herself. A weak act of repose.

_I just have to trust that Weevil's guy can protect him. I have to. I won't be able to sleep at night, otherwise._

"Yo!"

Veronica turned at the sound of her friend's unmistakable voice echoing from the other side of the security checkpoint.

"I'd come around to you, but I'm pretty sure I'm on this building's no-fly list, chica."

The Mexican guard doing check-ins looked up at the loud exchange, then shot Veronica an amused look of approval.

_Yeah yeah...so three of my closest friends are all sexy guys. I can't help it if they hit the genetic jackpot. This woman probably thinks I'm a Jezebel._

"Hang on to your hat, Kojak. I'll be right around." Veronica walked through the exit, giving an appreciative wave to the guard on her way out.

Weevil sidled up to his partner with dead eyes, causally flipping his keys back and forth against the palm of his hand. "You did _not _just call me Kojak."

She put a finger to her lips in thought. "I'm pretty sure I did."

He threw an arm around her shoulders and pulled her against his side. "I'm gonna let that one slide because you're having a tough morning, but I hear that again tomorrow and you're going to find yourself without a chauffeur."

She liked not having to explain how she felt to Weevil, he was always pretty intuitive when it came to her. The best part about their friendship is that he never expected her to talk about personal crap, he knew she'd do it if and when she felt like it. Most of the time, she didn't feel like it, and that was never a problem for him. She always had Wallace if she needed a push to do the healthy thing.

"Soon, I won't need a chauffeur. The doctor may clear me for driving this week." She preened a little as they walked into the intense light of the morning sun and descended the staircase toward the parking lot.

"You still need a car. If I'm not mistaken, yours got a little banged up."

_Understatement._

Veronica flashed back to the explosion and pulled a sharp hit of cool December air into her lungs.

His face crumpled into a grimace at the moment his metaphorical foot hit his mouth. "Shit. I'm sorry, Vee. I didn't mean it like that."

She pretended to laugh it off to a feeble result, and he pretended to buy it, without belaboring the issue.

"Don't sweat it."

They walked in silence down the long row of cars until they found his. She stared at the cherry red paint job on his restored 1980 Camaro and her mind wandered, trying to recall a time when she wasn't repressing her feelings about something.

_Is it possible for a person to be born with secrets? Is that what they mean by original sin? Not sure how original it is having an alcoholic for a mother, but I've more than made up for the lack of creativity in my infancy with the non-stop crapfest that bombarded my later years._

Veronica held her breath as Weevil unlocked the passenger side door, and her pulse started to pick up at the thought of his key slipping into the ignition.

_Every parking lot I'm brings me back to that night. Every time._

"Hey..." Veronica fingered the jagged edges of the metal key hanging around her neck by a silver chain. "Can we make a stop before you drop me home?"

"Where we headed?" He opened the door and gestured for her to get inside.

She hesitated. "I thought we'd pass by the bus station. My dad and I were supposed to stop there after hitting up the Stix last time, but he got called away on business before we could go, and then I...got busy."

_Examining Mac for a possible rape seemed more important at the time._

Weevil threw his thick keychain into the air and caught it around his back. "You got it, Miss Daisy."

Veronica stood motionless next to the vehicle and apprehensively kneaded her hands together. Weevil caught her drift immediately, and for that she was thankful.

"Hey, why don't you go wait over by the curb and I'll swing around and pick you up?" he offered, purposely avoiding eye contact. She knew he didn't want to see what she was thinking almost as much as she didn't want to read his thoughts on her at the moment.

A pained smile overtook her lips. "Sounds like a plan."

_Despite what happened and what everybody might think, there really is no place like home._

* * *

Sprawled out on her couch, with Dick's imposing frame hovering over her, Mac's fingers slid up the back of his revolting, douchey message t-shirt, and she couldn't help but marvel at the absurdity of their shared history.

_Who would've guessed that the sweet, younger brother, whom I had so much in common with, would turn out to be a psychotic murderer...while the asshole, older brother, who used to bully us mercilessly, would turn out to be the kind of guy who would willingly offer himself up as bait to the bad guys, in order to allow his friends a safe getaway?_

"Mackie...Mack!"

She snapped out of her reverie and focused her pupils in Dick's direction. "Sorry. I was...this is just so weird, right?"

He shrugged. "Does it matter?"

She thought about it for a moment, and then found herself getting lost in his admiring gaze. "I guess it doesn't."

He grinned down on her. "My motto: if it feels good, it is good."

"Would you apply that same credo to doing smack, surfing while intoxicated and risky sex?" Even as the words left her lips, Mac knew she sounded pedantic and belittling. She knew Dick wasn't really the idiot he pretended to be, but it was a force of habit for her to tease out his most inane statements and expose them to the world for the bullshit they were. "I have no idea why I just said that."

He slid down behind her and pulled her back against his chest. "S'ok. I get it."

She looked over her shoulder at him and raised an eyebrow. "You do? Can you explain it me me, then?"

Dick swept Mac's soft blanket of hair off of her neck and settled his lips near her ear. "You're looking for a reason why we don't work." His mouth grazed the delicate skin on the column of her neck and she leaned into it. "But you can't find any, so you're making one up, trying to start a fight about nothing."

_How oddly accurate._

"You're pretty intuitive for a finance major."

"I dabbled in Freud." He continued off her puzzled look. "Lots of hot chicks take psych."

"That statement, in and of itself, is worthy of an exploration into Freud's theory of the Id, Ego and Superego."

He let her know what he thought of that assessment by nipping her just above the collar bone.

"Ow." She turned over onto her back and wrapped her arms around his neck. "Dick...you're not going to get bored with me in a week, go off and screw some waitress, are you?"

Dick ghosted her hairline with his fingertips. "Not unless she's your type and you invite her to join us."

_How many girls has he fucked? Ugh. Stop thinking about it, you're only sabotaging yourself. Say something sweet instead. Sweet...hmm..._

"Doubtful, since apparently _you're _my type." She flashed her dimples at him.

He leaned over and pressed his lips against hers and she sighed into his mouth, giving him the opportunity to slip his tongue inside.

_Damn, the boy can kiss._

She thought about the past few weeks, the time he put into wooing her, all the while not knowing that she was a sure thing. Then, she recalled his behavior the night before last, when she stumbled into her house disoriented, and he rushed to her aid without a thought. The panicked look in his eyes was the most humbling thing she'd ever experienced. Nobody had ever looked at her that way before. "You really do like me."

"Seriously? It's not obvious?" Dick's eyes dropped to his erection, which he pressed firmly up against her groin.

Mac gasped, then her eyelids fluttered closed and a blissful smile appeared on her face. "Feels pretty obvious, but maybe I need some further convincing?"

_What's he waiting for?_

Dick hesitated before kissing her again.

Just as Mac wrapped her legs around his waist, he pulled back from her and sat up.

"What the hell, Dick?" A panicked feeling settled in the center of her gut.

_I thought he liked me. Maybe this is going too fast for him? Maybe he changed his mind?_

"I – I think we should, you know, just chill out a little bit."

He looked two minutes away from peeling off his own skin and running for the hills.

Mac pulled herself to a sitting position and tried to mitigate her embarrassment. "That's cool. I mean, maybe you just like me as a friend?"

"I do like you as a friend, Mackie." He shot her a lopsided smile, then focused his attention on the task of removing specks of imaginary lint from the left leg of her pajama pants.

_Oh...crap._

"That's kinda why I think...we should wait to...do stuff." He looked up at her shyly, with eyes as innocent as a baby's.

"Stuff?" She knew exactly what kind of stuff he was talking about, and he knew she knew it too, but she needed to hear him say it.

"I fuck up a lot of things, even when I don't really mean to." Dick shrugged his shoulders and flicked a flannel lint speck off of her leg. "I don't wanna fuck this up."

_Wow. Dick wants to screw everybody. For him not to want to have sex with me, he must like me even more than I thought._

Her chest heaved with excitement, the idea that he'd given special thought to being with her like that, made her insides heat up and pool between her legs.

_Uh-oh. I think I like him more than I thought, too._

"You sure you want to take that stand today?" She pulled herself onto his lap by her legs and ground her center against his erection.

"Shit! You're not making this easy for me," he grumbled.

"Actually..." She dug her hands into his impressive mane and took his earlobe into her mouth. "I think I'm making it _very _easy for you."

He groaned and tried to stand up, letting Mac fall backward onto the couch. "I need to do this, okay? Don't you get it?"

Dick was practically shouting at her now as he paced the swatch of carpet in front of her, and she stared at him in disbelief.

_Who the hell is this?_

"Not forever...just like, two weeks or something. I've never dated a girl that long without laying the pipe."

"Seriously?" Her face reflected her disgust at his sexual history, choice of wording, and her own dismaying lack of shock at the claim.

"I mean, I've had girlfriends before..." Their eyes met and she'd be willing to bet money that they were both thinking of Madison at that moment. "But, there was nobody that I actually...you know..."

She rose to her knees without realizing it. "No...I don't know. Tell me."

Dick stopped pacing and stood in front of her on jittery legs. He ran a hand through his hair twice and took a few breaths before working up the nerve to look at her again. "You're the first chick I've ever liked that I could...I don't know...see having something real with?"

He phrased it as a question, but it clearly wasn't meant as one.

Mac's face pinched as she processed the true meaning of his words. "You mean like...a future?" The words felt foreign in her mouth.

Dick sighed his relief at her understanding and grinned boyishly. "Yeah. That."

_I'm not good at talking about crap like this. Why is he doing this now? Why can't he just bend me over the couch and do what we've both been been thinking about for longer than I'd be willing to admit out loud? _

"Oh."

_That's all you can come up with, Mac? The poor guy just poured his heart out to you. _

_Oh my God, I've got to get the hell out of here before I embarrass myself._

Mac nodded her head and tried her best to extricate herself from this situation the most painless way possible. "Guess I should go take a cold shower, then?" She nudged his shoulder with her closed fist in an awkwardly chummy fashion and he responded to the gesture with marked confusion.

"I thought..."

Just as he started to speak, her cell phone began to ring loudly from the bowels of her purse on the hallway floor.

_Saved by the bell._

* * *

The engine of Weevil's car purred loudly, then he shifted the gear into park. The vibrations from the motor lulled Veronica into an artificial sense of calm. He revved the motor once more to get her attention, but it only made her sleepier.

"Can I offer you a pillow?"

She blinked her eyes rapidly and turned to look at her partner. "Sorry. I haven't been getting much sleep lately."

He nodded, familiar with her propensity for night terrors.

_I wonder what wakes Weevil up screaming in the middle of the night?_

"You want me to go with?" Weevil let his hands slide down the sides of his leather steering wheel and land in his lap, as his car idled in the drop-off lane in front of the bus stop. "I could watch your back."

Veronica shook her head. "I want you to stay right here and watch the car's back. Keep the motor running."

_I'm seriously considering traveling by bike from now on. No ignition._

Weevil challenged her decision with a look, but quickly backed down. Of all her friends, he knew best what a hard-head she could be when pushed.

He reached across her chest and manually unlocked her door, then jut his chin up to signal for her to leave the car. "Make sure you do a good job watching your own back, then."

Her lack of an answer only seemed to fuel his worry, and his expression morphed into something quietly ferocious. "Comprende?"

_It's official...he's a better backup than Backup was. Of course, the only thing Backup is good for guarding these days is the rear porch of my dad's house, but he still knows how to show those squirrels who's boss._

"Si. Yes." She held her hands up in surrender. "Though, now you've totally ruined my plan to get whacked from behind."

Weevil's eyes softened, but his jaw remained firmly set. "That ain't funny."

She leaned forward and grabbed his hand, giving it a light squeeze. "Sure it is."

Veronica left the car and slammed the large door behind her, using the entire weight of her body to do so, then let her right hand rest on the handle of the service weapon that was hidden under her jacket.

She walked quickly to the back section of the bus station and took in the rows and rows of puke-colored lockers lining both walls.

_Some interior designer actually chose this color. Over other colors. Amazing._

Lifting the silver chain over her head, she held the brass number tag to the light and ran her thumb over the embossed '88' attached to the key.

When Veronica finally located the corresponding locker, she noticed a homeless man, who looked like Santa, passed out in her path. Between the stench of old booze and the man's girth, she assessed him as being low risk and decided to go around him.

But just as she was about to step to the side, Weevil's warning echoed through her head.

_Watch your back_.

The sounds of footsteps approaching turned her head, and a skinny, jeans-clad, man in his 20's with serious bedhead, unskillfully threw himself at her, knife in hand.

_Really?_

Veronica lunged to the side and the man ungracefully crashed, head-first, into the opposite row of lockers.

She re-donned the necklace and unsheathed her gun as she walked briskly in her shadow's direction. The guy was cornered. He had nowhere to go, and they both knew it.

"If you wanted my attention, all you had to do was ask." She scowled at the man cowering in the narrow gap between the metal wall units. She was too tired to deal with this crap today, and still craving that slice of pizza. Him keeping her from eating, made her want to cap his ass even more than the attempted shanking.

He laughed hysterically and covered his face with his hands.

_What? The? Fuck?_

"Uh-uh. Hands up, Sir Laughs-a-lot. Link your hands behind your head and stand up." She nudged his leg with her foot and aimed the gun directly at his head.

He half-followed orders by placing his hands behind his head, though it was obviously only a reflex to the routine. This clearly wasn't his first time dealing with law enforcement. She could easily guess with a fair amount of certainty that he'd been hauled in on a drug charge, if his red-rimmed eyes were any indication.

Regardless, this guy wouldn't be hard to subdue. He was strung out on some kind of amphetamine and would be incapable of a well-executed rebellion. She had to wonder what kind of enemy would send in a methhead fuckup to take her down.

_In Neptune, all things meth usually lead back to the Fitzpatricks, but which one? Cormac is dead, Liam in prison, and Danny Boyd is too stupid to organize a yard sale, much less a menacing. Even the priest is in the clink, thanks to dear old dad. _

Her thoughts drifted toward a certain blonde in a tight, red dress, but she quickly pushed them away.

_Molly's never been involved with Fitzpatrick business before, she's never even approved of it. Plus, she knows I'm pregnant, and I just can't believe she'd hire some moron to rough me up when she knew it could hurt the baby. She may have been cold-hearted, but she was never cruel._

The junkie's irritating laughter reached a crescendo and Veronica kicked him harder, this time in the shin, then aimed her gun at his thigh. "Get the fuck up, while your legs still work right."

"You can't shoot me! I ain't armed or resisting arrest!" His unnerving laughter started up again and she stomped hard on his right knee cap, causing him to cry out in pain – which unbelievably - still didn't put an end to his insane cackling.

"Shut up and get up, Chuckles. In that order."

The attacker's right leg shook aimlessly with a bad case of the DTs, throwing off his equilibrium. The side of his head knocked against the steel of the cabinet, but he kept on keepin' on.

_I'm going to shoot myself if he doesn't shut the fuck up soon._

"I'm starting to feel threatened. Maybe you attacked me again?" She cocked the hammer of her gun and the man's giggles miraculously slowed down, trailing off into nothing. "This is the last time I'm going to ask you." She motioned with her gun for him to stand up, and he scrambled to his feet.

She pulled him out of his hiding spot by the lapel of his faded, acid-washed jean jacket, took his weapon off of him and quickly gave him a pat-down, finding only a dimebag of crank hidden in his sock. "Who sent you?"

"Am I under arrest?" he asked defiantly.

_If I had the authority right now, I would, but what you don't know..._

"Why would I do that, when there's so much more I can do to you in this deserted bus station?" She flashed her teeth menacingly and threw his open knife into the air with her left hand, catching it deftly by the handle on its way back down. "Gee, I hope I don't drop it, next time. Somebody might get hurt."

"Fuck you. I want a lawyer."

Now, Veronica was the one laughing. "And I want a pony, but you don't see any horse shit around here do you?"

A searing pain striped across her lower back, followed by a trickle of wetness, but she had too much adrenaline pumping for it to make a dent.

_Did I just get knifed?_

"Hey! You! Get away from her!" a voice shouted from not too far away, and the sound of advancing footsteps galloping toward her grew louder until they ended with a dull thud.

The presence at her back disappeared and she could hear a commotion, but she kept her eyes firmly on the perp in front of her. "You just couldn't wait in the car, could you?"

"I ain't a wait-in-the-car kinda guy." Weevil dragged the the Homeless Santa into sight by the top of his ear, then roughly shoved him in the direction of the meth-head.

Veronica greeted her business partner with an amused smile. "Always gotta be the hero."

_I can't believe Weevil blew off my request! Then again, I guess should be thankful he cares enough to hit the 'ignore' button when I need it. _

_He'd better not let this get to his head. What am I saying? Of course he will._

"I am who I am, Vee." He winked one set of his long lashes at her. "Now, why don't you go get what you came for? These nice guys aren't gonna give me any trouble while you're gone, are you?"

Homeless Santa, who was nursing a bloody nose with the edge of his sleeve, shook his head aggressively, while the meth-head remained frozen in fear.

"Glad to hear it." He smiled and crossed his arms over his chest.

A trickle of blood dripped down her back into the crack of her behind, and she tried to angle her body away from Weevil to prevent him from noticing it. She knew she wouldn't get this chance again, and couldn't risk her friend calling the whole thing off in lieu of a trip to the hospital.

Veronica lifted the key over her head again, approached locker #88, and slid the piece of metal into the hole until all of the teeth meshed together and the lock turned.

She wrenched the stiff door open, revealing a large cookie jar shaped like a lion.

_Oh Leo, if I didn't already know this was the right locker..._

Lifting the lid, she peered inside, and found what appeared to be a small external hard drive.

Before she had a chance to examine her haul, two rent-a-cop security guards ran across the main room of the station in her direction. She shoved the lion into her messenger bag and slammed the locker door hard, then pulled her badge from her pocket, while still retaining a solid grip on the gun. "FBI."

Both men slowed their gait and stared in shock at the tiny agent in front of them.

"Oh...we thought you were getting gang-raped or something," the taller one said with disappointment, glancing fleetingly at Weevil, before returning his gaze to Veronica.

"Good response time," she said dryly. "So, which one of you yahoos has a walkie?"

The shorter guard gestured to his utility belt. "We both do, but they only talk to each other."

_And people wonder why bus stations are always a hotbed for criminal activity._

Without asking, Veronica yanked the handcuffs from each of their belts and tossed them to Weevil one-by-one. "Call Keith Mars and tell him that his daughter has two presents for him that she'd appreciate him holding on to for her. If either of these cockroaches escapes before being booked down at the police station, I'll be very angry."

Weevil wrinkled his nose and held back a smirk. "You wouldn't like her when she's angry."

"You're Veronica Mars?" The taller man looked starstruck, and she arched her brow quizzically in response. "I went to Pan. You were kind of a legend there...Betty."

The shorter guard snickered.

"Looks like you got a fan club goin' on." Weevil waggled his eyebrows at her.

Veronica rolled her eyes and started walking toward the exit. "Oh God, you're going to be impossible all afternoon now."

"You know it!"

_Now, just a quick phone call and then a trip to the ER. My days were never this full back East. We used to spend days staking out a location, and often came back with empty hands._

She pulled her phone from her pocket and hit #4 on her speed dial. It barely rang once before the call connected. "You busy?"

"Good morning to you too, Bond," Mac drawled through Veronica's Bluetooth earpiece.

"Sorry, I'm just in the middle of something." She looked over her shoulder at the perps, whom Weevil was forcing to their knees as the guards watched in awe.

"When aren't you?"

She shrugged her shoulders. "Fair enough."

"So, which law would you like me to break today? Security breech? Illegal movement of funds? Creating an artificial police record for a girl you hate?"

"Actually...I'm on the right side of the law, now. I've got a badge and everything to prove it."

Mac snorted her laughter. "For the sake of this call, we'll go with that."

"Q, my dear..." Veronica peered into her bag and stroked the top of the lion's head with her fingertips. "I've got an itch that only you can scratch."

The phone was silent for a moment until Mac nervously cleared her throat. "Funny you should say that...because I was thinking the exact same thing about you."

"You've got to be fucking kidding me!" Weevil's voice echoed across the hall and Veronica shut her eyes at his startled tone.

She looked down and noticed rivulets of blood running from her lower back to her feet, leaving a long trail behind her.

Now, she would really be getting an earful from him, there was no way around it.

She reached around and felt the shallow, three inch cut that Homeless Santa carved just above her left kidney and groaned. It wasn't serious, but she knew she wouldn't catch any less hell for letting it happen.

_It'll be a miracle if Logan doesn't chain me to the refrigerator door after this._

"I'll call you back." Veronica quickly disconnected the call and shoved the phone in her pocket, before continuing to walk out through the exit door into the rising wind.

* * *

Duncan stood patiently in the bare room at the courthouse, as Keith shackled his legs together.

The older man's expression was pained as he clicked the lock into place. "I'm really sorry about this, son. Sometimes, the law doesn't always get it right."

"It's okay, Sheriff Mars. I knew what I was risking when I took Lilly in the first place."

_And what Veronica was risking by helping me..._

"Still..." He shook his head in frustration and gently patted the side of his calf. "I hate that you're going through this. Despite my feelings about you involving my daughter in it, had it been me in your shoes...I would've done the exact same thing." He looked up into the face of his daughter's former boyfriend and smiled.

A knock sounded on the outside of the door and Duncan's stomach clenched hard in response.

He instantly missed the older man's calming touch as Keith rose from the floor to open the door.

"Hi sheriff. Am I interrupting?" a female voice asked from beyond the wall.

"A welcome interruption, if anything." Keith held out his hand to greet her.

Duncan noticed an elegant, olive-toned hand grasp one of the sheriff's and shake it lightly.

"Have you taken him down there yet?"

She sounded familiar, but he couldn't quite place the voice.

"Nope. Was he granted a last minute reprieve or something?" Keith asked with a hopeful edge to his voice.

"I'm not even supposed to be here, officially." The woman tittered nervously. "I'm trying my best, believe me, but the DA won't budge on this. He said something about not wanting to look soft on the rich."

_Who is that?_

Keith rolled his eyes. "Six months isn't exactly Alcatraz."

She let loose an anxious laugh. "The whole thing is absurd. He's the girl's father, for goodness sake. Things like this make me wonder why I ever went to law school."

"You'll make a great DA one day, and then you can change the system instead of fighting it. Don't get discouraged, we'll think of something." He patted her arm softly and opened the door a little wider to allow her to pass, then signaled to Duncan that he'd be just outside the room.

Duncan's gaze traveled up a pair of shapely legs, lingering on the toned middle and generous breasts of a torso, before finally reaching a face that could rival a Botticelli.

_Carmen Ruiz. Jesus, how did I never notice her before?_

She tried to smile and appear upbeat, but her emotions betrayed her. "Hey. How are you holding up?"

"As well as can be expected, I guess." Duncan gestured to his leg shackles.

She brought one of her hands to her mouth and her face became hard. "This isn't right. It's unbelievable that we're treating you like a criminal, when you saved your child from an abusive home. We should be patting fathers like you on the back instead of punishing them."

He wondered for a moment if Carmen knew from experience what Lilly might have endured if she'd been left in the Mannings' care.

_She did let that asshole Tad push her around for a long time. Then again, maybe she's just a bleeding heart?_

Her eyes burned with such indignant anger, that he was almost afraid to meet them with his own – but he forced himself to – and immediately recognized it for the mistake it was.

_Oh God. _

Duncan's heart rate sped up and pressure began to build in the center of his chest, making it difficult to breathe. He wondered if it were possible to infiltrate a person's mind with only a look. "Thank you."

She smiled at him, which only made the strangled feeling increase.

_What the hell is happening to me?_

"This may be over for the DA, but it's not over for me." Carmen walked across the room toward Duncan and he involuntarily held his breath. "You still have people fighting for you, Duncan. The law is a tricky thing. This door might be locked, but it's quite possible somebody left a window open. If I've learned anything, it's that there's always a loophole. Hopefully, I can find it for you without getting fired."

He swallowed thickly and wondered what her hair would feel like between his fingers. "Why are you doing this? Aren't you supposed to be playing for the other side?"

"I'm on the side of justice, wherever that may be." Carmen held one of his cuffed hands and he felt an electric shock to his groin.

_Fuck, she's hot._

"We spent seven years in school together, Duncan. I know what kind of person you are, how you treated people. I know you have a good heart."

"You're...you're...thank you for that." His heart beat loudly in his ears.

_Real articulate. She's sure to be wowed by your intellect now, buddy._

"I figured you could use a friend on the inside. Just do me a favor and keep it under wraps. I like my job, so shh..." She lifted a finger to her plush lips and pressed it against them, making Duncan wonder what it would be like to kiss her.

_You're on your way to prison dude, this is not a honor students mixer._

"I can use all the friends I can get. I'm new in town, remember?"

She chuckled softly at his joke, forgetting to release his hand. "I can usually get in to see prisoners we've dealt with directly, so if you need anything at all, have the guards send word to me."

Duncan's eyes widened at the kind offer. "I don't know what to say, other than you're pretty amazing for risking your career just to check up on me. I wouldn't want you to get in trouble."

"You can owe me one," she teased.

His blue eyes sparkled like gems at her nearness. A rich guy like him in prison was probably a dead man walking, but he hadn't felt more alive in years. "It would be my pleasure to be in your debt, Carmen."

_Stop thinking pornographic thoughts!_

She bit her bottom lip and shook her head. "It's the right thing to do. Your daughter is a beautiful girl, she looks so much like your sister."

He nodded in agreement. "That's what everyone says."

"But I also see a little of Meg in her, too." Carmen had a far-away look in her eyes. "She would have been really proud of you for what you're doing."

Something about her words made him choke up. "I hope so. I really hope that's true."

Her stricken face reflected his circumstance and a tear rolled down her cheek.

"Oh my God, I'm so embarrassed." She wiped the tear away with her hand and sniffed a few times until she had control.

Duncan's heart swelled with affection for her. He'd traveled the globe for years now, and rarely had he met some one with a nature as pure as Carmen's. For certain, she was bombarded on a daily basis with disappointment and horror, exposed to the depraved actions by the absolute muck of society through her job, but she still managed to remain unaffected. "Don't be. If I could do that without looking like a huge wuss, I totally would."

Her brow furrowed. "I wouldn't think you were a wuss."

Keith popped his head in the door. "It's time, honey. I'm sorry."

_Not as sorry as I am._

Carmen took one last look at Duncan, nodded, and turned to leave. "I'll see you in a few days," she said faintly as she left the room.

Keith strolled in casually and smirked at him. "She seemed nice."

"She certainly did." Duncan's eyes remained on the door as it slowly closed behind her.

* * *

**A/N - So...how was it? Love it? Hate it? Meh?**

**- Duncan's big story is coming up very soon and believe me, it's intense. What do you think of Carmen for DK? I watched M.A.D. the other day, and something about her reminded me of a Latina Meg. In fact, she was almost more Meg than Meg, IMO.**

**- I promise that the dinner with Keith is coming up, there's just so much to squeeze into these chapters, that I keep running out of space!**

**- Weevil is headed back to the River Stix soon to fake romance Molly.**

**- Do you think the Fitzpatrick's were responsible for the bus station attack or somebody else?**

**- What's on Leo's tiny hard drive? (that sounded vaguely dirty)**

**I can't wait to read your reviews, so if you have the time and the energy, please let me know what you think!**

**PS - I seriously could not have gotten this chapter out without silverlining2k6. That bus station scene kicked my ass as badly as Weevil kicked Homeless Santa's ass. You'd be reading an 'insert fight sequence here' sign if it weren't for her.**


	11. Chapter 11

**A/N - The last chapter was my _least _reviewed chapter ever, including both MacGuffin and Red Herrings, so I'm hoping it's just a fluke and that it doesn't mean the fic has lost momentum. **

**I love hearing from you, so if you _are_ getting bored or annoyed with the fic, send me a PM and let me know why (in a nice way, please). I really do gauge which storylines interest you based on what your reviews say, so if you love/hate something and you want to more/less of it, please don't hesitate to pipe in. Like Daniel Craig...I'm all ears.**

**This chapter is ****rated slightly M-ish, and** on the longer side, so bring snacks :)

* * *

Previously: Duncan figured out that Veronica was pregnant, gave her his blessing, and then remanded himself into custody. V asked Weevil to drive her to the bus station to retrieve whatever was in Leo's locker. She found a hard drive there, but not before she was attacked by two men, one of them injuring her slightly by slashing her back. Dick and Mac got close but he stopped him at the last minute, because he didn't want to jump into bed with her like he usually did with girls. Annoyed, Mac told him she was going to take a cold shower. Before she could do that, her phone rang. It was Veronica, asking her for help unlocking the drive. Just as Duncan was about to be led to prison intake, Carmen sneaked into the room and voiced her outrage over his imprisonment, pledging her help in trying to get Duncan out early. Duncan suddenly noticed how hot she was.

* * *

**CHAPTER 11**

Veronica sat patiently in the waiting room of the ER, waiting for her ride. She'd insisted, much to Weevil's strong objection, that he continue on to The River Stix, as was originally planned. He said he wanted to protect her, but when she pointed out that the best way to protect her would be to find out who was attacking her and why, he soon relented.

She cataloged the array of outdated magazines for 'Outdoorsmen' and 'Happy Homemakers' laying about the room and wondered briefly when the 1950's had returned.

_Have these magazines actually been in this waiting room since the 1950's?_

It was like the periodicals were judging her lifestyle choices by their mere existence.

_Is there a high circulation rate for this crap?_

She figured there had to be a big enough audience for it, since it was popular enough to have made its way into the waiting room of a major hospital. Maybe there was a magazine for everybody nowadays?

_I wonder if there's a magazine called 'Female Adrenaline Junkies with Commitment Issues'. No? Just me? _

Veronica looked down at her flat stomach and sent a mental apology to her unborn child for risking her own life unnecessarily. It was fear and stubbornness that kept her from accepting Weevil's offer of backup. That, and hubris. Lots and lots of hubris.

Logan was right, she never was very good at accepting help. But it wasn't because she didn't trust him, it was just that it made her feel powerless. After that night at Shelly's house, powerless was the last thing she ever wanted to feel again.

He didn't understand her behavior at the time and called it reckless. She didn't understand it any better than he did back then, but things had become much clearer with age and distance. Time had a way of doing that.

Back in high school, she had to be able to take care of herself – to watch her own back – because it was obvious that nobody else would. She had no friends, nobody to count on but her dad, so she had to be her own hero.

The people she thought would always be there for her had turned on her without a second thought. How was she supposed to know who to trust, when she clearly had the worst judgment? She'd rather be the architect of her own demise, than allow somebody else to let her down again or to hold her fate in their hands, like they had the night of the party.

_I should have trusted Weevil. I do trust Weevil. Why is is so fucking hard for me to admit that I have limitations?_

Veronica got lucky and she knew it. So did Weevil, who said as much as he was bawling her out on the ride over to the ER.

He told her it could have been much worse if he hadn't arrived when he did. There was no argument or smart-ass comeback this time, because she knew he was right.

If Homeless Santa's knife had caught her from a different angle, or if Weevil had decided to actually listen to her for once, she could be lying in a hospital bed, less one kidney. There's a possibility she could have even been killed.

_I can't even imagine the conversation between Weevil and Logan if things had been worse. As it is, I'm probably going to have to threaten to leave town in order to get him to back off from the poor guy. Logan's going to blame him no matter what I say._

She had decided to have this baby, so she'd better start doing a better job of protecting it.

This was a warning.

Logan's voice broke her out of her reverie. "He couldn't even stay long enough for somebody to come get you?"

_How'd he sneak up on me? Maybe I need get my ears checked again while I'm here? Getting surprised from behind, twice before noon, is probably a sign._

He pointedly avoided her eyes, pretending to be engrossed with his keys. "Was there some emergency poblano-picking festival I was unaware of? It's sunny out there, I hope he remembered to bring his sombrero."

Veronica shot out of her seat and grabbed her boyfriend's arm, pulling him toward the exit and away from the mostly Mexican clientele she was sitting amongst. "Logan!"

He jerked his arm out of her grasp and smiled to himself as he continued to play with the keys. "Guess you haven't changed as much as you thought you did, huh?"

"Guess not," she admittedly quietly, as she walked past him onto the sidewalk.

She heard rapid footsteps in her wake, and turned instinctively to greet them. She wasn't about to let another person get the jump of her today, even if it was the man who loved her above anything else in this world.

"You're unbelievable."

She blanched at the pure venom present in his voice.

_He sounds like he hates me. He wouldn't leave me over this, would he?_

She banished the irrational thought from her mind, attributing her paranoia to her building hormones.

_I'm the one who always runs, and he's the one who always stays. Like mother like daughter, I guess._

"What do you want me to say, Logan? That what I did was risky and stupid?" Veronica's mouth tightened into a flat line and she crossed her arms over her chest.

A puff of laughter escaped his lips. "Yeah. That would be a good start..."

"Most people don't get attacked in bus stations in broad daylight."

"Most people haven't had two attempts on their life made in the last two weeks."

A heavy silence hung between them.

Part of her felt as though his ire was unjustified. After all, wasn't she a trained field agent equipped to deal with low rent criminals brandishing weapons? How was she to know a quick pop-in to the bus station would prove to be dangerous? The attack could've happened anywhere. She could've been picking out the perfect melon at the supermarket and gotten jumped from behind.

Was she expected to have an escort everywhere she went like a Southern debutante? Did he want to place her in a hamster ball, like her father?

But just as quickly as she was to anger, she felt the indignation seep out of her like a leaky bucket.

_Fucking hubris._

The fact was, her hearing wasn't back to normal yet, and possibility never would be. She didn't have all of her faculties, and thus, couldn't protect herself the in the way she'd become accustomed. And Logan was right about the attempts on her life. If she weren't currently the target of a madman (or woman?) who had already proven how far he was willing to go, she could justly argue that he was being paranoid.

_He's scared, and I'm making it worse. Is proving something to myself worth making him feel this way?_

She rubbed the back of her tight neck with her hand. "You don't think I regret my decision?"

"I'm sure you do, Veronica. _Today_." Logan finally looked up at her and the pain present in his eyes made her stomach sink. "The thing that I'm not so sure about is whether or not you'll make safer decisions in the future. No. Scratch that. I'm positive you won't."

His lack of faith in her ability to change wounded her deeply, though she knew she'd feel the same way, if she were in his shoes.

_Why should he trust me? I've never given him any reason to think I'd do anything other than exactly what I felt like doing, that I'd take his fears into consideration. _

"I'm sorry. Can you at least believe me when I say that?" She hated the sound of her own voice right now, so small and feeble, but it was just a reflection of how she felt.

"Are you – is it bad?" He peered around her to look at the location where he assumed the wound was.

Veronica shook her head and lifted the back flap of her jacket to show him the bandage. "I've gotten myself worse with a pairing knife, slicing onions."

They both knew she was lying.

"And the...baby?" He looked almost embarrassed by the amount of concern he was visibly trying to hold back, and it practically broke her heart. "Everything's..."

"Normal." She smiled in an attempt to relax his nerves. "In fact, they want us to come in for a scan tomorrow or Wednesday. You know, since I haven't actually had one yet."

Logan spontaneously wrapped his arms around her shoulders and pulled her tightly against his chest, then rested his hand gently on the back of her head and held her there. "You scared the shit out of me."

"I know. I know. I'm so, so sorry. You have to believe me," Veronica murmured into the Mars Investigations logo on his t-shirt.

"It's not just you I'd be losing, Ronnie, it would be everything." His voice choked up on the last word and he buried his face into her hair. The muscles in his chest here rigid and she could feel the emotional fatigue wafting off of him in waves. "I can't lose everything again. I wouldn't be able to - -"

"I know." She cut him off, not wanting to even imagine what he'd do if something happened to her, much less hear him lay it out for her.

It wasn't too long ago, she had been nursing the same guilt and fears about her father, as he sat for hours in the corner of her Virginia hospital room, simply watching her sleep.

_Hubris got me knifed even worse back then, and I didn't even get to save the girl. I went in without backup. It's kind of a thing with me, huh?_

She pulled out of Logan's hold and cradled his face in her hands, before locking eyes with him. "I'm sorry. I love you, and I'm not going to do shit like this anymore."

"...okay, I'm going to_ try_ _my best _not to do shit like this anymore. I promise," she amended, off his doubting look.

Logan brought his hands to her face and softly stroked her cheekbone with his thumb. "I just – don't believe you." His palms slid down the sides of her neck, and he leaned forward to press his lips to her forehead, then abruptly walked off in the direction of his car.

She watched him retreat, imagining what it might feel like to do it for the last time.

_That's probably how he feels every time I leave the house. _

_If he's like this with me, our kid is going to be so fucked. _

"Stay on the curb and wait for me to bring the car around. Can you at least promise to do that?" he called to her over his shoulder, as he disappeared between the long rows of beat up American cars, peppered with the occasional luxury SUV.

_I can do more than that, Logan. You'll see._

* * *

Logan and Veronica drove home in complete silence. He didn't know what to say to her. What were you supposed to say to a person who carried your entire life in their hands and insisted on always juggling it? He knew at some point she would drop something precious to him, and there was nothing he could do but stand by and watch helplessly.

Veronica had proven time and again that she had no problem walking away. He couldn't live without her...not happily, anyways, so their life together had to be on her terms.

_Always on her terms._

Logan could smell her from the other side of the car. He could always smell her whenever she was near. He didn't know if it was a pheromone thing, or if he had a supersonic sense of smell, but whatever the reason, it was always present when she was around.

_This isn't healthy. I want her too much for this to be healthy._

"Where's Lilly?" Her head was leaning against the window, but her eyes were pointed squarely at him.

_I know that look._

She was observing him. Assessing him. Probing him for weak spots and rooting around for secrets like a truffle-sniffing pig.

He paused too long before responding, which was probably the biggest mistake a person could make around Veronica Mars.

"Wallace dropped her off at your parents' house."

Her eyes narrowed. "Why didn't you just drop her off?"

_Don't look at the Medusa! Look at the road._

He kept his eyes firmly on the asphalt and willed his voice to stay even and steady. "I was in a hurry to get to you."

She mulled over his response for a few seconds longer than was normal, and he knew the discussion was far from over.

She inhaled a loudly and her eyebrows bunched. "You were in such a hurry that you called Wallace, waited for him to drive to you from his office on the other side of town, and then handed him off to Lilly to take to my parents' house which is only ten minutes away from here?"

"We were already near his office."

_What should I say we were doing? I know she's going to ask. What the fuck is on that side of town that's appropriate for kids? There's no beaches, no museums, it's just an industrial wasteland, dotted with manufacturing plants._

He wished she could just buy a line, for once. That she would take something he said at face value without having to verify and investigate it.

_I am lying this time, though._

She picked her head up off of the window and he knew he was screwed. "Doing what?"

"If there's something you want to ask me, Veronica, just get it over with already."

Maybe he could put her on edge, make her think she was the sketchy one?

_Yeah, right._

Her blue eyes penetrated his facade, but he kept his eyes on the road. She had him smack in the middle of her cross-hairs. They both knew it.

_Look at the road, focus on the road. The road is your sanctuary!_

Her chin dropped to her chest and she shook her head. "What do you think she'll want to eat for dinner?"

_Huh?_

"I was thinking pasta. Everybody likes pasta, right?" She blinked rapidly and waited for his response.

Logan cleared his throat. "Pasta's always good."

_She's just letting this go? She knows I'm lying to her, but she's trusting me anyway?_

"Maybe we should get Chinese though, you know, to make her feel more at home?" Veronica turned her head and watched a family of ducks marching in sync on the side of the road. "I'm sure the Chinese here sucks though, compared with what they have in Singapore. The dishes probably aren't even from the same region."

He pulled the car to the right, crossing three lanes of traffic without warning, and turned down an unpaved road that led to the beach, then slowed to a stop.

"Logan, why did we-?"

Before she could finish the sentence, he had his lips against her face and kissed a sloppy trail to her mouth.

"I love you," he rasped into her mouth between kisses.

He could feel her smiling against his mouth, and he took it as a sign to deepen the kiss.

"I love you, too," she whispered, clutching the center of his shirt with both of her hands.

The leather-wrapped clutch dug into Logan's stomach, but he barely felt it when she was kissing him like that.

His seat rolled back to the farthest setting and she gingerly climbed onto his lap, barely breaking their contact.

He slowed things down, ghosting the sides of her face with his fingers as his lips faintly grazed hers. She was so beautiful to him when she was like this, allowing herself to be so vulnerable with him. He knew she wouldn't let herself go like this with just anybody.

Logan let the pad of his index finger drift over her swollen her bottom lip, which was pink and engorged from their lip-lock.

_I did this. I made her feel this way._

Veronica met his stare and tears began to well in her eyes, making them appear bluer than they'd ever looked. "I'm so sorry, Logan."

"Shh..." He tried to calm her, leaning in to kiss the tears away, but she held him off with a palm to the chest.

"No. You didn't let me finish." Her chest heaved as she struggled to catch her breath. "I'm sorry that I lied to you about Connor and the investigation. I'm sorry that I put myself at risk when I know how nervous that makes you after losing your mom...and Lilly." She shook her head, as though she were driving the bad memories from her skull. "But mostly, I'm just sorry that I make you feel like I don't trust you. Because the thing is, I _do_ trust you, Logan, probably more than I trust anybody outside of my father. I would trust you with my life."

He had dreamt of this moment many times over the last eight years. Thought about the words she might choose, the look of adoration she'd have in her eyes when she said them, and even the temperature of the air between them as they spoke.

_This blew all of that out of the water._

Nowhere in his dreams though, was there a nagging guilt needling the back of his brain while all of this was going down.

"I love you, and I trust you, and I'll do whatever it takes to find a way for you to be comfortable with what I do for a living." Her smile felt to him like sunshine, making his skin feel warm and tingly all over. He'd give anything to be able to make her smile like that all the time.

"Because, we – we're a family now," she continued. "And families do whatever they have to do to stick together...at least, they should. I want us to stick together, Logan. So, if you could just be patient, and try to work with me on-"

His lips were on hers again, and her hands were on his zipper.

"Stop talking." Logan closed the tinted windows of his car and leaned the driver's seat all the way back. "You had me at 'pasta'."

Perched on his lap, Veronica leaned forward and slipped her tongue into his mouth.

_I'm actually happy. And I can barely even notice that hollow feeling I get when I think about her leaving me. Is this what normal people feel like?_

As he attempted to peel off her blazer, she winced in pain.

_Normal people probably don't have pregnant girlfriends nursing knife wounds._

"Are you okay to, you know...?" He nodded toward her cut with concern and she responded by unbuckling his belt, which prompted his chuckle. "I'll take that as a yes."

"Well, it's not no." Veronica slid his zipper down and he lifted his hips to extract himself from his pants. He was hard and ready. It never took him long with her.

_'Not no' is maybe my least favorite response to any question ever. At least now, I've been upgraded to a maybe. She's going to be screaming 'yes' in about ten minutes._

He reached under her skirt to pull her panties off. "You're wearing too many clothes."

Veronica stood, hunched over him, and shimmied her way out of her underwear. She then climbed back into his lap and immediately sank down onto him with a soft moan.

Logan inhaled sharply. "So, we're dispensing with the pretense then?"

"I couldn't wait." She guided his hands under her shirt and began to rock against him.

_Oh God._

He groaned as she slammed against him. "When you're getting ready to launch into space, you're sitting on a big explosion waiting to happen."

Veronica stopped moving and raised an eyebrow.

"It's a quote." Logan brought his hands back down to her hips and tried coaxing her forward, but she remained still. "It's from Sally _Ride_." Her other eyebrow shot up. "You know...the famous astronaut? Hrmph. And you call yourself a feminist."

"Silence is a virtue." She leaned over and kissed him tenderly. "Ben Franklin."

* * *

Weevil's hand rested on the door handle of the newly-revamped River Stix. He debated whether he should pony up and charm Molly into finding out who wanted Veronica dead, or if he should just drive over to Vee's fancy house on the beach, and just finish the deed, instead. There was no way she wasn't going to pay for asking him to do this.

_Asking? Ha. _

Every favor she ever requested seemed more like a direct order.

_And you gave in to every single one, like a total bitch. _

Vee barely broke five feet but she loomed over the city like a Valkyrie, forcing Neptune's biggest badasses to bend to her will, by hook or by crook. He wasn't one for working with partners, but if he had to hitch his wagon to anybody, he was okay with it being her. Having Veronica Mars watching your back was never a bad thing.

_Wish she watched her own back as good as she does mine._

"Move it, muchacho!" A salty-looking guy of 50, with a potato head and a face full of grey stubble, shoulder-checked Weevil out of the doorway. Reeking of cheap Bourbon as he fell into the door, Weevil wondered how he'd be sober enough to lift the next glass, much less drink it.

"Get the fuck off of me!" Weevil growled into his face, sending the guy scurrying inside The River Stix.

He took a deep breath and gave himself a pep talk.

_It's just a bar, she's just a girl, and Felix is too dead for me to feel guilty. _

None of that was true, but lying to himself was the only way he was going to get through it.

He ran a tired hand over his bald head and pulled open the door.

* * *

_Flashback_

_Weevil stormed angrily out of the center quad of Neptune High and headed directly toward the parking lot. He had to get out of there. Between the business with Thumper, his hog going for a swim in the Pacific, and his failing grade in math, this spat with Molly was just the salsa on his enchilada. _

_He needed air, and there was no better way to get it than a long bike ride, but unfortunately for him, that was out. Thumper had seen to that personally. Lucky for him, his uncle Angel happened to get his hands on an old school Mustang this week – clean plates and everything – so his new plan was to roll the top down and drive the shit out of that thing down the PCH until the gas tank ran out. _

"_Eli."_

_He thought he was hearing things. There's no way she had the balls to follow him out here after he ripped into her in front of the whole school._

_Weevil pulled his keys from his pocket and tossed them lightly in his hand, ignoring the woman at his back._

"_Weevil!" Molly grabbed the sleeve of his shirt and pulled him roughly to a stop._

_He turned, and his eyes traced the tight grip she had on his shirt, up her bare arm, across her graceful neck to her remorseful eyes. He didn't even try to hide his disgust, and she responded by releasing his sleeve as if given an electric shock. _

"_I did love him, okay?" She stood proud and looked him in the eye, where most women would've avoided his wrath. He could respect a woman with cajones like that. And he would've too, if he didn't already know what she was about. Just another blanca getting her taste of spice behind the bleachers, when everybody else was looking at the game. _

"_Enough to keep him your dirty little secret?" He got right up in her face, in a way that had caused men twice her size to retreat in fear._

_Molly held her ground, a hint of defiance in her eyes. _

_She'd grown up around men more ruthless than him and was far from intimidated. He figured that playing milkmaid to a bunch of violent methheads probably prepared a girl for just about anything. _

_Her fingers closed tightly around his wrist, and desperation leaked through her pores like acid, burning a path from the inside out."I loved him," she repeated, drawing out each word separately for emphasis._

_It was Molly who called him out this time, her forceful tone all but daring him to brand her a liar._

_There were a lot of things Weevil didn't know – he didn't know the square root of 144, Newton's 2nd Law of Physics, or whatever the fuck 'The Old Man and the Sea' was supposed to be about – but he knew what love looked like. He had been there himself once. _

_Weevil nodded and relaxed his stance. "Yeah? How much?"_

"_Everything you said about us was true. He was it for me. And now? I've got nothing." She delicately swiped her free hand under her nose. "Every day. I have to spend every freakin' day playing happy family with my asshole relatives, waiting on them at the bar, knowing that they broke out a bottle of the good stuff when Felix got killed. I know, because they made me serve it to them. They hated him."_

_He raised an eyebrow. "But not you." _

"_Of course not," she snapped, and brought her other hand to her bosom in a clenched fist. "You have to believe me. If my uncles had anything at all to do with killing Felix...I wanna know. I deserve to know."_

_Weevil felt her grip on his wrist tighten and he looked her in the eyes to assess her the level of sincerity. It's not that he didn't believe she cared, but there was a huge crevasse between caring and doing something about it, and the fall between the two could kill a man. _

_He couldn't risk pissing off the largest crime family in Neptune, not when he didn't have his crew to back him up anymore. If Molly fucked him over, she would literally be the death of him. _

_Just like Felix. _

_Weevil watched Molly's chest rise and fall heavily with her indignation. His wrist was beginning to ache, but it was the kind of pain that could turn a guy like him into a believer. In his experience, a woman hard-core enough to leave bruises on a guy while trying to make a point, was really fucking serious. _

_She was serious, and he was starting to believe her. Maybe Felix wasn't so wrong about her after all?_

_His face softened. "You sure about that? There are some things you can't unlearn, you know?"_

_Molly's jaw tensed, steeled with resolve. "You can't tell me nothing worse than what I've seen up close. Yeah. I'm sure. What do you need me to do?"_

_Her intensity nearly knocked the wind out of him, but he responded to it with a challenge. He licked his lips and lifted his chin toward her in provocation. "How far you willing to go?"_

_She looked at him with curiosity, and her eyes, which had just been clouded over with anger, darkened with an emotion that was entirely different. A brazen smile tugged at her lips. "All the way."  
_

_The air between them heated up and his spine jumped to attention._

_Weevil wasn't sure who moved first, but before he knew what had happened, his keys hit the ground, and he was knuckle-deep in her golden waves. His mouth was on hers, both soft and hard at the same time, sparring with each other in a battle that neither of them had bothered to declare. _

_She pressed her ample body up against his, and he felt himself pulling it nearer, as if he had no say in the matter. His wrist was still caught in her fierce grip, but he barely felt the pain with the rest of him throbbing as hard as he was._

_He wasn't sure if it was a way for them to feel closer to Felix, a way to forget their pain, or just a way to get off, but it stopped almost as quickly as it started._

_Consternation overwhelmed her features as she brought a shaky hand to her lips. "I – I don't..."_

_What the fuck had he done? _

_He just kissed Felix's girl. _

_Weevil cursed internally, called himself an asshole, a bad friend, and an all-around dog. But the worst part about it, the part that really killed him, was that he didn't want to stop. He wanted to feel every inch of her velvet skin vibrating under him for the next two hours. He wasn't even sure he'd be able to stop after that...which is why he knew he had to._

"_Veronica Mars is probably looking for you right about now." He had no idea where that came from, but Vee had always saved his ass in the past, so why not now?_

_Molly nodded without looking at him, released his wrist and fled briskly away from him toward the campus quad._

_The circulation didn't start to return to his wrist until she had already disappeared into main office. He couldn't help himself, he watched her walk the whole way back._

* * *

Weevil walked through the door and took in the space in front of him. It didn't matter what day it was, places like this were the same whenever you went there. Knowing what to expect was a great part of the allure.

Over the loudspeaker looped the same cheesy collection of Christmas songs. The redheaded waitress wore the same black dress as last time, brought trays of uncomplicated drinks around to the same band of drunken misfits who lurked in the same dank corners of the bar as before.

It was the land where time stood still...or maybe he just wanted it to be.

Weevil coughed on the plume of cigar smoke emanating from the table nearest to the entrance. News of the smoking ban obviously hadn't quite reached clientele who frequented the Stix yet.

At the sound of his coughing, the woman tending bar looked up from pouring egg nog and smirked, then went right back to her task without a word.

_I guess she's not happy to see me._

Molly set four glasses of egg nog onto a round, black tray, then snapped her fingers at the redhead without looking up.

"I was wondering how long it was gonna take you to get up the nerve to walk in here." She adjusted the top of her Santa's hat, which had fallen forward into her eyes as she was mixing the drinks. "You spent enough time crowding my doorstep."

He leaned against the wall next to the door and returned her smirk. "You wanted me here so badly, you coulda invited me in...you know, in the spirit of the season."

Molly laughed to herself as she set up two rocks glasses on the bar, and then turned to fetch a bottle of 25 year old Scotch from the top shelf behind her.

Weevil tried hard not to watch with interest as her dress rode up the backs of her thighs.

She placed the bottle on the bar next to the glasses and gave him a nod. "In the spirit of the season."

Eartha Kitt's raspy, baby voice floated over the speaker system.

"_Think of all the fun I've missed...Think of all the fellas that I haven't kissed..."_

He ambled over to the stool just across from her station, taking his time so he wouldn't appear too eager.

_She could make any guy too eager._

"So...how'd you know I was outside?"

Molly hooked her thumb at the small monitors near the register. At the moment his head turned, Weevil caught site of an old, faded sticker of a black and white cartoon cat stuck to the side wall of the machine.

_Felix the Cat._

He smiled. It was good to know his buddy wasn't forgotten, especially by her.

"I was wondering when I was going to see you here again." She uncorked the bottle and poured two fingers in each glass.

"Oh, you figured I'd be back, did you?"

"Well, after what happened to Veronica Mars today, I did." She put the cork back into the bottle. "She's one of your people, isn't she?"

_She knows about Vee? Man, she must be in deeper than I thought._

He leaned his elbow on the bar and made himself comfortable. He planned to be there a while, or at least, until he got what he came for. "How'd you hear about that?"

"People talk." Molly muttered in a low voice, and slid one of the glasses a few inches in Weevil's direction. He noticed a slight tremor in her hand. "Drink up."

_Don't know if it's Veronica, me or door #3, but something sure as hell's got homegirl spooked._

"You didn't even ask me how I take it." Weevil ran the tip of his index finger around the lip of the glass, then bent over to sniff the liquid inside.

"This shit is as old as you are," she said, pointing to the label on the bottle which read _'Aged 25 Years'_. "You're taking it neat, or I'm taking it back."

Weevil chuckled and lifted his glass to her.

Molly toasted him back wordlessly and their eyes met for a moment before they both drank.

The amber liquor burned a path down his throat, warming his insides like a calming bath, and he could almost feel himself starting to relax. "Wow. This shit is okay."

She nodded smugly at the compliment and refilled their glasses. "You ready to tell me why you're here now?"

_You ready to tell me what you know about Veronica's attack?_

He shrugged. "Can't a guy come to visit an old friend?"

Molly's eyebrows kissed her hairline and she crossed her arms over her chest. "We were never friends, Eli."

Weevil leaned in and turned on the charm. "I remember us getting pretty friendly once upon a time."

She didn't react outwardly, but when her nostrils flared a little wider than usual as she breathed in, he knew he'd wormed his way past her velvet rope.

In another hour or two, he was confident he'd be kicking back with a cold one in her 'personal' VIP section.

Her smile grew as cold as the lager she served on tap. "You must be confusing me with somebody else." She grabbed the bottle of whiskey off of the bar and turned her back to him, then stood on her toes in an attempt to put the bottle away. She had barely slid it onto the ledge, when she flipped back around to face him.

_Oh, she's playing it that way, huh?_

Flustered, Molly misjudged the space and her hand smacked the back wall of the shelves with the force of her turn. The vibrations sent the precariously-placed bottle plummeting toward her head.

Weevil leapt across the bar and pulled Molly out of the way, sending his own glass flying into the air as well.

The bottle narrowly missed her head and shattered on the ground next to her feet.

"Shit!" Molly struggled to catch her breath and stared at Weevil with wonder.

His hands cradled her ass tightly, but she was too stunned to notice, and he was too freaked out to enjoy it anyway. "That was a close one."

"Yeah..." She nodded to herself, but her gaze was still trained directly at him. "Close."

* * *

Dick stood in from of Mac's Nespresso machine, dumbfounded. He barely drank coffee at all, much less knew how to make it. And the contraption before him looked like it belonged in a sci-fi film, more than a kitchen, but Mac always did dig the sci-fi.

Maybe it was his privileged upbringing, or maybe his opinion that hot cocoa was a far better vehicle for caffeine that deprived him of his coffee-making ability, but it didn't matter much either way. He still had no idea where the on button was.

_Shoulda just stopped at Starbucks, dude._

Dick wanted to surprise Mac with a cup of coffee. He knew it wasn't exactly the height of romance, but it was what he had to work with at the moment. She'd gone in to take that cold shower he'd driven her into, and the least he could do was have something warm for her to drink when she got out.

_What the hell am I doing? I like her. She's naked, wet and less than 100 yards from me. Am I fucking gay?_

He knew deep down that if he were gay, he'd still probably want to watch her shower. He'd definitely be the type of gay guy who would be down for anything. After all, he was pretty much down for most things now, so why would it be any different? He decided right then, that he'd make a hella-good gay dude.

_Yeah, especially today, asshole. What are you waiting for? She had her hand on your johnson and you totally left her hanging._

He didn't know why he stopped himself when they were on the couch before. It wasn't like he didn't want her, or like he hadn't been thinking about it since that day on the beach when he drunkenly threw himself at her. Hell, he'd even dreamed about fucking her when he was nearly bleeding out on that table in Petrenko's dirty basement. It took everything he had in him to stop.

_I did the right thing._

It didn't feel right, though. Not as right as things felt when his hand was pressed against her core and he could feel the heat radiating off of it through her flannel pajama bottoms. Of course, she could've just been hot because they're thermal?

_In the long run, she'll thank me for holding off. She knows I've practically lost count of the number of chicks I've been with. Words are bullshit. This is the only way to show her she's not just another good time. Anyway, it's all I got._

Dick was snapped out of his musing by the sound of the doorbell.

_Should I get it? Will she be pissed? Fuck it. It's probably just a delivery or something._

He walked with purpose across the kitchen, through the hallway and into the foyer of Mac's apartment, and rested his hand on the door handle.

_Maybe I can pay this dude to show me how to make coffee?_

With a flick of the lock, Dick pulled open the door and found himself face-to-face with only man, besides Woody Goodman, who'd made a personal appearance in his nightmares.

Alexei Petrenko stood in the doorway, a bag from the local Jewish deli grasped tightly in his hand. "I – Mr. Casablancas. I wasn't expecting our paths to cross again so soon."

_This fucker has got some nerve showing his face after what he did to Mac. _

Dick's hands balled so tightly into fists that the circulation in his fingers immediately started to wane. "Looks like you got lucky then."

A smarmy grin tugged at Alexei's face, the momentary shock of seeing Dick there having quickly worn off. "It's nice to see you up and about. I trust that shoulder isn't keeping you from any of your normal activities?"

_Considering my only normal activities consist of gaming and surfing, then yeah, they have. But if what you're really asking, is if I'm fit enough to give you a beatdown with one of my arms still in a sling, then the answer is 'Da!'_

"You seem real concerned about my health for a guy who had my ass tossed on to the sidewalk."

Unfazed, Alexei only shrugged. "Think of the alternative."

_Oh, I do. Every time I close my eyes at night._

Alexei shifted the take-out bag into the crook of his elbow and checked his gold Rolex for the time. "Where is Cindy? She called in sick and I wanted to bring her something to eat. Some soup."

"I've got it taken care of." Dick leaned his arm across the door jam, effectively blocking Petrenko from entering the apartment.

"I'm sure you do...though I wouldn't want to chance her being left unfulfilled by you." He thrust the bag forward, and Dick struggled with himself over whether or not to take it.

_Am I making things worse for her? Can things really get any worse for her after the other night?_

He decided to hedge his bets and angrily grabbed the paper bag from his rival's hands. "I'll be sure to give it to her as soon as she's done taking a shower."

_Let him think I got a piece of what he's never had. Maybe it'll get him off her back if he knows she's with me now?_

Dick winked, just in case his point was lost in translation.

_Am I being too subtle?_

If he weren't looking closely, he might have missed the Ukrainian man's flinch. It lasted for a split-second before his cool facade slipped cleanly back into place. His gaze fell to the words '_Stimulus Package' _written in the center of the t-shirt that Dick was wearing.

_That's right asshole, the arrow points down. Mac thinks my junk is the 'new black'._

"She's indecent?" The tension in the air was palpable.

Dick chuckled dryly and gripped the bag of food so hard it nearly ripped. "No dude, I'm thinking you're the one who's indecent..."

"Dick!" Dressed in a robe and hair towel, Mac appeared in the foyer. She hesitated before approaching the men. "Hello Alexei."

Petrenko stepped to the side to get an unobstructed view of their mutual interest. "I got your message. I was concerned."

"He brought soup!" Dick said brightly.

She pulled the sides of the robe more tightly across her chest and remained halfway behind Dick, clutching the back of his sleeve for comfort. "I'm just feeling a little under the weather since Saturday night."

Alexei's face registered what appeared to be genuine concern. "Maybe something you ate at the restaurant didn't agree with you?"

_This guy is good. Even I'm starting to believe him. Except for the fact that I don't._

"Yeah. I wonder what it could've been, babe." Dick stroked the light stubble on his chin with his free hand.

Mac's fingernails dug into the flesh of his upper arm and he held in a wince of pain.

_Damn woman, I get it! You want me to shut the trap. Lesson learned. _

"I think I'm going to lie back down now. Can I talk to you at the office?"

"You'll be in tomorrow?" Hope was present in the boss man's eyes.

"Sure." She smiled halfheartedly. "Thanks for the soup."

Mac pulled Dick back into the house by the elbow and shut the door behind him.

"What the fuck was that?" He pointed to the front door, stunned by her casual reaction to Petrenko's unexpected appearance.

She stood on the tops of his feet and threw her hand over his mouth. "Shh."

Mac's cheek hovered above Dick's wound and he could feel her heart thumping hard within her rib cage against his upper abs.

His arm wound around her waist and held her in place. The stood in silence for three long minutes until she began to relax.

Dick released her to the ground and she ran to her keyhole to make sure Alexei had left, then snatched the bag of food from his hand and walked briskly to the kitchen.

"I hope you're not even considering eating that!" He chased after her down the hall, catching a last glimpse of her angrily shutting the lid of her metal, kitchen garbage can. "Mac..."

"Not yet." Mac grabbed his hand and led him down the opposite hallway into her bedroom and shut the door behind them.

_What the hell is going on with her?_

Dick's eyes closed to half-mast and a lurid twinkle passed behind them. "You really can't wait a week to break off a piece of the-"

"Dick!" She punched him in his good shoulder.

"Ow!" He rubbed the place where she nailed him. "It's cool if you're into the rough stuff, but I figured we'd take it slow the first go-around."

Mac's eyes filled with water and she wrapped her arms around herself.

_Shit. She's really upset. I was just playing around._

"Hey." He reached out and softly stroked her cheek. "I was just kidding, okay? I know it probably freaked you out seeing that sleazebag show up here."

She shook her head. "_You_ are the one who is freaking me out, Dick. Are you trying to get yourself killed?"

"I'd like to see him try..."

"Don't be naïve. Alexei could end you before the close of business today if he felt like it." She pulled the towel off of her wet hair and shook her tresses out with her hand.

_Fuck that douche. I've got cash behind me too. I could hire some of his own thugs to go work him over if I felt like it._

His face sharpened. "He tried to RAPE you."

"We don't know that, okay?" She wiped away a tear with the dry part of her towel.

"The fuck we don't. You have a hickey above your tit, Mac."

_I could probably still catch the bastard in the parking lot, if I ran quickly enough. I want to hit this guy so bad I can almost taste it._

Mac's face turned crimson and she turned away from him. "How do you know that?"

Dick shrugged. "I overheard it."

"You were eavesdropping?" Her voice wavered as she brought her fingers to her lips. "That was private."

"Like I wasn't gonna notice if we didn't stop when we did, back there on your couch?" He stepped into her personal space and stared at her until she met his eyes. "You shouldn't be embarrassed about it, you should be pissed."

"Thanks for the tip." She laughed bitterly. Dick opened his mouth to speak, but she cut him off with a raised finger. "If you say 'that's what she said', I'm never going to show you what's under this robe."

He felt himself grow hard at the mere suggestion of seeing her naked. She was standing in front of him in a thin, cotton robe, and all he'd have to do is pull one string and it would all be his. And he knew she'd let him.

_This is going to be the longest week of my life._

"You're thinking about seeing me naked now, huh?" Mac smirked and licked her dry lips. "Good."

Dick cocked his head to the side in surprise.

"You've been thinking about it a while, right?" she asked.

He nodded blindly.

"It would be a real shame for you to die before you got to." A droplet of water fell from her hair and landed in her cleavage. "I would think so, at least..."

The atmosphere was thick with sex and his pants grew tighter with each moment she looked into his eyes. Unable to control himself any longer, he leaned forward and pulled the tie of her robe, letting it fall open to reveal Mac's nude form.

_Fuck. FUCK! Why did I do that? _

_How did I have no idea her body was so slammin'? _

_How am I supposed to walk out of here now?_

Dick's eyes raked over the swells of her breasts, and tumbled down her soft but flat torso to the apex of her thighs. He inwardly groaned.

All of the air left his lungs in a whoosh.

Mac closed her robe quickly, but it was open long enough to give him enough material to whack off to for the rest of the year. "Why did you do that?" Her tone was admonishing, but her undertone light.

"You were right. I didn't want to die without seeing you naked." A guilty smile pricked his lips, but he didn't really feel that guilty.

She cleared her throat and looked at the floor with awkwardness. "Was it...what you thought?"

Her face was pink with bashfulness and he couldn't have been more turned on by it.

_She's the only chick I've ever liked who still has the ability to blush. Those other whores wouldn't have blinked twice if I'd suggested a three-way with Mr. Ed. _

_I guess I could be lumped in with the whores too, seeing as I was with all of them._

_Mackie though, she's still got real blood running through those veins._

Dick lunged at Mac, knocking her backward on to her bed. He kissed her deeply, kneading her hair in his hands as he stole her breath. "I'm gonna explode if I don't see that again real soon."

She gasped for air and tightened her legs around his waist. "You could see it again now, if you're interested..."

She pulled him in for another kiss, and he pressed his pelvis up against hers. If he closed his eyes and thought hard enough about it, he could almost feel her moist heat surrounding him and imagine himself inside of her. At that moment, there wasn't anything else he could think about _but _that.

_Don't fuck this up, bro!_

Dick pushed himself off the bed and scrambled to the corner of the room, still flying at half-mast.

She let out a strangled moan. "If Alexei doesn't kill you by the end of this week, then I will."

He bounced up and down on the balls of his feet like a boxer and tried to regulate his breathing. "You're gonna thank me for it."

"I seriously doubt that." Mac scowled as she did a snow angel on top of her comforter. "Anyway, you'll have to live long enough for me to thank you for it."

She sat up and looked at him with disappointment, but with her face still flushed from activity, her legs still slightly spread apart to grant him entrance, and her hair tousled from his own two hands, all he felt was elation. "He told me you were a walking target, that if I 'displeased' him at all, he'd go after you."

"Is that why you didn't rip him a new one when he showed up before?"

She nodded. "I kind of like having you around. I guess I've gotten used to it."

_Good, because I plan on being around for a while._

"Awesome." A stupid grin spread across his face and he couldn't make it stop.

Mac echoed his smile. "Wanna help me bring down a bad guy?"

Dick nodded as he slowly made his way back over to the bed and sat at the farthest corner away from her. "My schedule is suddenly wide open."

* * *

**A/N2 - Well? What did you think? PLEASE REVIEW! (my attempt at subtlety).**

*** Do you see where this is going with MaDi?**

*** Are you digging the WeeMol UST? Anybody ever see this fanfic pairing before? (please say no!)**

*** Are you mad at me for giving you all le blueballs with the LoVe sex scene?**

**Thanks to everybody who is taking the time to read this story, and especially to those of you who are leaving reviews and giving feedback. I appreciate it all! **

**PS – I'd offer Silverlining2k6 my first born child for her awesome beta-ing skills, but my little guy might get mad. She's more than welcome to take him for a few weeks during the summer, though...**

**PPS - A big shout out to 'superfan' Amy, for creating a MacGuffin/Red Herring Pinterest board. So flattered!**


	12. Chapter 12

_**A/N – I want to thank you for satisfying my whining by leaving so many reviews. It really perked me up to hear your honest thoughts about the fic so far. I'm happy (aka. relieved) that you're still into it, and it honestly pushed me to write the next update a little faster. **_

_**I know this fic is slower paced than the previous story, but it's for a reason. Anyway, things are kicking into high gear - starting with this chapter - but especially the next one.**_

_**I've been having trouble squeezing all of the plotlines into one chapter, so sometimes your favorite might get left out (no MaDi in this one, sorry!) but I will give you a larger dose of it in the next chapter. I have to include what flows and once I hit 20 pages, I usually stop – if I make the chapters longer, you'll have to wait longer for an update.**_

_**Also, some scenes that you may *think* are missing, will be addressed in the future. For ex: I didn't show Mac and Petrenko's date at the time, but then you got flashbacks to it in the next chapter. In this chapter, you get info about Logan/Wallace's investigation in the chapter before. Sometimes, I cut it out for suspense, but often I cut what I think will be boring to read – in this case, I didn't think anybody would want to read about Logan knocking on a bunch of strangers' doors and getting no info. Just because a plot thread isn't addressed immediately does not mean it's been dropped. Ya dig?**_

_**Anyway, this chapter is for the Duncan lovers (crickets?). I know he's not exciting (unless you also find Jessica Biel exciting), but I'm about to make him VERY exciting. Like the last story, his situation will become the catalyst for the rest of the fic.**_

_**Onward! Longest chapter yet!**_

* * *

Previously: Logan was mad when he picked Veronica up form the ER. She had an epiphany and realized she needed to think about being more cautious for the sake of their family. She also decided she needed to force herself to trust him more, in order for their relationship to work. He, meanwhile, is still keeping secrets. In flashback, it's discovered that molly and Weevil shared a heated kiss after their run-in over Felix in the high school quad years ago. Weevil showed up at Molly's bar and sparks flew. Alexei showed up unannounced at Mac's door bearing soup. He and Dick had a little pissing contest, which resulted in Mac dragging Dick back into the house. Mac wanted to have sex, Dick wanted to show her she was special by _not _having sex with her...yet still opened her robe to take a peek at what he was missing. Instead of having intercourse, the pair figured they'd work out their frustrations by bringing Petrenko down.

* * *

**CHAPTER 12**

"Not so fast, Miss Veronica!"

Veronica was caught. She ignorantly thought she could dip in and out of her parents' home to speak with her dad, without enduring a lecture from her worried step-mother, but that was beyond wishful thinking.

Alicia stood in the hallway with her arms crossed, tapping her foot impatiently on the ceramic tile floor.

Veronica froze and slowly turned around, only to be faced with her pissed off step-parent, angrily wielding a chocolate-covered whisk. In the woman's shadow, was Veronica's goddaughter, her face covered in matching chocolate.

_Chocolate AND being yelled at. It's like the universe is trying to ruin chocolate for me. Nice try, universe._

"You didn't honestly think you were getting out of here without speaking to me, did you?"

"No?" Veronica bared her teeth in a tentative smile.

"Can you please bring this to the sink for me, honey?" Alicia bent down and handed Lilly the batter covered whisk. "Your Auntie Vee and I are going to have a talk."

_She may as well have substituted the word talk with the word 'tirade'._

"Okay." Lilly tauntingly stuck her tongue out at Veronica.

"Very mature, Lilly." Veronica sniffed.

"I'm seven!" she shot back, before skipping off down the hallway.

"Well, you're not a very mature seven!" Veronica called after her.

_And I'm not a mature 24, apparently..._

Alicia waited for Lilly to turn the corner before laying into Veronica. "I'm not going to waste my breath telling you how much you frightened your father and me. And I'm not going to take time out of my busy day to explain to you, in detail, how beside himself with worry your boyfriend was. And how we nearly had to walk him to his car, because his legs were shaking so badly."

Veronica pictured Logan's reaction to the news she was stabbed and winced.

"I'm not even going to tell you how Wallace, whom I've barely seen get worked up about anything less serious than child soldiers in Africa, took the rest of the day off from work to sit with us in the house. He held my hand while we waited by the phone for news of your medical status."

_Either my morning sickness is rearing it's ugly head once more, or this woman wields guilt better than an old world grandma._

Alicia continued. "I'm not going to bother, because this is all stuff you should have known would happen when you decided to take chances with your life like you did."

"Well, for somebody who wouldn't have bothered, you sure do sound like you're 'bothered'." Veronica smirked, lamely attempting to infuse some levity into the conversation.

"That's your response?" Alicia brought her hand to her hip and shook her head.

"My dad would've appreciated the sarcasm..."

If she weren't already beating herself up enough, Alicia was happy to take over for a while, it seemed. "I don't care how old you are, Veronica Mars, or that you didn't come out of my body, you're going to listen to what I have to say and you're going to agree with it, and then we're going to sit down and eat dinner. It that understood?"

_Holy hell. No wonder Wallace was such a good kid in high school. His mother is freaking frightening when she's irate!_

Veronica cleared her throat. "Understood." She bowed her head deferentially, then peeked up with one eye at Alicia. "I really am sorry, okay? I really didn't mean to get everybody so upset."

"It's not just you anymore." Alicia sighed and wrapped an arm around Veronica's shoulder, guiding her toward the kitchen. "In fact, it was never just you. You have people who love you, and you owe it to them to take better care of yourself. Put yourself in our shoes. If I had some madman after me, would you let me go anywhere by myself?"

She let her head drop against her step-mom's shoulder. "No. I'd probably have you tailed by a rent-a-cop. That, or I'd do it myself."

"Nothing is going to erase what happened with Leo. Even if you did have your hearing totally back, which you obviously don't, you wouldn't forget him or what happened. Leo would want you to be safe and healthy, especially because he's gone. Don't let his death be in vain by getting killed yourself."

"I have to find out who did this, and stop them from doing it again." Anger swelled inside of Veronica like a hot air balloon, rising high above her head, drifting further away from her firm grasp. Except that she was riding that balloon into the ether, and she couldn't locate the valve to let out the air.

"You have to let your father handle this one, Veronica. It may not seem real to you yet, but it doesn't make you any less pregnant."

"You're pregnant?" a voice called out from behind them.

Veronica turned around and found her father, bracing himself against the nearest wall with nearly all of the color drained from his face.

_Ohhh crap._

"You're _pregnant_!" Keith's tone was an unnerving mix of both excitement and horror.

Logan then entered the hallway at the worst possible moment. "We eating dinner here instead of the kitchen? I mean, the company is pretty good, but the ambiance could really use some work."

Veronica tried desperately to message Logan with her eyes, but he just wasn't getting it.

"Why is it so quiet? Did somebody set the wrong fork again?" he asked, eyes playfully accusing Veronica.

_Poor thing is completely oblivious to the fact that he's about to have his ass handed to him._

Keith's eyes narrowed in Logan's direction. "You got my daughter pregnant!"

Logan's face paled rapidly, his palor now matching the sheriff's. "I-"

"Actually, it's not Logan's. The father is some random dude I picked up in a bar my first week back in Neptune." Veronica tried to sound as casual as she could, given the looks she was receiving. "What? A woman has needs."

Logan reacted as if sucker punched and leaned his forehead next to Keith on the wall, speechless.

_Double crap. Now, I've gotten Logan all upset again. I'm really on quite the roll today._

Keith exploded faster than a roman candle doused in kerosene. "WHAT? I don't even know what to say to that, frankly. I don't recognize this person at all. I can't even believe this woman in front of me is my little girl, the responsible daughter I raised." His face was beginning to turn purple, which concerned Veronica a little. She'd intended to get him mad, but she didn't want to give her dad a stroke. "To get pregnant is one thing, but with a_ stranger_? I could maybe accept this if it were Logan's, but-"

"Dad!" She shouted loudly to cut off his rant. "It_ is_ Logan's baby."

Logan looked up at her with confusion from where he'd buried his face in the wall.

"I – I don't even know what I'm supposed to say here." Keith threw his hands in the air. "Alicia, do you know where I left that 'Parenting Sadistic Troublemakers For Dummies' book? I thought it was in the bedroom, but..."

"What...are you doing, Ronnie?" Logan looked like he might throw up. "Are you trying to kill me?" He turned to Keith, while pointing his finger at his girlfriend. "I'd like her arrested for attempted murder."

_I probably deserve it at this point._

"Get in line," Keith grumbled.

Veronica's expression turned remorseful and she aimed a sheepish shrug at Logan. "I figured maybe he wouldn't be so mad at us if he thought there were a worse alternative."

"So, I _am _the father?" His face was pained with emotion and she felt like kicking herself for doing that to him.

_I am going to be on my back all night trying to make this up to him..._

"Of course!" She reached out and grabbed the tips of his left fingers. "Who else would it be? I haven't had a boyfriend in five months, and I was on The Pill until the kidnapping..." She toured the sea of angry faces glaring at her and tittered nervously. "You can't yell at me, I'm pregnant!"

Keith exhaled roughly and rubbed the heels of both hands against his eyes. "I think you just shaved ten years off my life, sweetheart."

"I'm sorry. I just – well, I didn't know what to say. I was planning on breaking it to you gently, maybe over dinner, but then you just caught me off guard, and I just...I don't know. I've never done this before." Her voice was shaky as she rambled in a stream-of-consciousness. "Are you mad at me?" she asked her dad in the smallest voice possible.

"Are you happy?" Keith looked down at where his daughter's fingers joined her boyfriend's.

"Yes." She nodded and slid the rest of her hand into Logan's. "I've never been happier."

_Huh. I think that was actually the truth._

Keith reluctantly smiled and stretched a gracious hand out toward Logan's. "Welcome to the family, son, and good luck." He glanced at his daughter. "You're gonna need it."

Logan let out a forceful puff of air in relief, then grabbed on to Keith's hand and gave it a hearty shake. "You really have NO idea how happy I am to hear you say that. I was sure I was going to wind up mounted over your bookcase in the study."

"My initial plan, in the event of this scenario, was to put you in the bathroom over the toilet, but it didn't fly with Alicia." Keith rolled his eyes at his wife, as if she were crazy. "She thought it might be off-putting."

"Nobody likes using the bathroom with an audience, Keith." Alicia exchanged a look of amusement with her husband. "On that note, why don't we sit down for dinner and you two can tell us all about your wedding plans?" Alicia smiled with purpose at Veronica, then continued down the hallway toward the kitchen.

Veronica's jaw dropped and her eyes narrowed in accusation at her boyfriend.

"What? She could really help when it comes to picking out which miniature version of a normal sized dish we'd like to have served as hors d'oeuvre during our cocktail hour." Logan waggled his eyebrows at her in smug victory and chased after Alicia before Veronica could fire back.

_That little sneak! They totally planned that!_

Keith wrapped his arm around Veronica and kissed the side of her head. "You haven't said yes yet to him, have you?"

Her brow creased. "He told you that he asked me?"

He shrugged. "I assumed. Logan's been desperate to lock it down since your senior year of high school."

Veronica blushed furiously at this and shook her head as if to deny it, but Keith cut her protests off at the knees. "He wrote a book series about you! What more could a father want for his daughter than to marry a man who is capable of total adoration?"

"You might want me to have somebody with prospects? A rapier wit? A guy who is good with his hands..." She grabbed at the air suggestively.

"Well, since Logan has none of those qualities, it's probably a good idea to give him the old..." Keith made a raspberry noise as his thumb hooked toward the back wall. "Seriously, you're not even going to consider putting him out of his misery? For the sake of romance and failed contraception?"

_I really never thought I'd see the day where dad was arguing FOR me to marry Logan. I feel like the next thing out of his mouth is going to be 'Padres suck!'. _

"You know what they call me: Veronica Mars, romantic fool...or was it _just_ fool? I can't remember which." She tried to will away the conversation with a swish of the hand.

"You know, not everybody who gets married ends up miserable and co-dependent," Keith offered, "some of us are just co-dependent."

She smiled insincerely. "A comforting thought."

"Isn't it?"

Just as they started walking in companionable silence toward the kitchen, Keith stopped her with a new thought. "You know, by the time this kid you're carrying winds up in jail for something, I might be too old to do actually something about it."

She frowned at the thought and rubbed her belly. "Why do you say that, like it's inevitable?"

_Oh fuck it. Who am I kidding? Of course it's inevitable._

"Genetics, baby!" He pulled her closer, then placed his hand on her tummy. "Who's your granddaddy?"

Veronica groaned in disgust, which only made Keith laugh harder.

* * *

Duncan spent the better part of the afternoon getting processed and entered into the penal system. Turns out, that country club jail he was promised was three hours up the coast, and if he wanted to see his daughter every week, he had no choice but to do his time in the maximum security facility on the outskirts of town. It was a no-brainer for him.

"Toro! You have a new roommate!" the guard yelled as he rapped his keys against the reinforced metal door of the cell before sliding it open. "Get the fuck up! Don't you have manners?"

If Duncan's heart beat any harder, it would explode through his chest wall.

_Think of Lilly. You're doing this for Lilly. _

A Mexican man in his mid-20's rolled over in his cot and squinted at the fluorescent light assaulting his eyes from the hallway.

The guard shoved Duncan lightly into the cell and eyed the roommate with suspicion. "What have you got there, cholo?"

"You mess with 'The Bull'..." The roommate held up a pair of homemade brass knuckles fashioned out of tin cans. "Toro, toro, toro!"

_Lilly...Lilly...Lilly!_

The guard smirked. "You know you can't have those in here."

Toro swung his legs over the side of the cot and sat with his elbows on his knees, still admiring the dangerous art project he had in his hands. "Two Bens says I can."

"Where's a gangbanger like you gonna scrape up that much cash?"

Toro's eyes fell on Duncan, who was shifting anxiously from foot to foot. "My new roomie's good for it. Ain't ya, roomie?"

Duncan's stomach churned as a knowing smile settled across his cellmate's face.

_This guy can have whatever the fuck he wants. I don't care if I walk out of here broke, as long as I can actually walk._

He tamped down the tremor in his voice before answering. "Yeah. Sure. I've got you covered."

The Mexican sent a flourished gesture Duncan's way. "See? Daddy Warbucks has got me covered."

_He knows who I am?_

The guard considered the prisoners offer. "Make it three and you and I never had this little chat."

Duncan felt his roommate's predatory eyes on the side of his neck. He nodded, and then puffed his chest out to keep himself from looking weak.

"You got yourself a deal, pig." Toro smiled smugly at the retreating guard.

Something about Duncan's roommate looked familiar, but he couldn't exactly place it.

The jailor closed the cell door and motioned for Duncan to slide his hands through the bars to have his handcuffs unlocked. "Looks like you got yourself a live one, Hector."

He looked at Duncan and gave him a reassuring nod. "That's what I'm banking on."

* * *

"Did you know that the blood volume of pregnant woman is roughly 50% higher than a woman who isn't?" Darrell asked Logan as he bit into his rare steak.

Logan paused mid-bite. "I did not."

Alicia sighed in her son's direction and shot an apologetic look at Logan. "Darrell, that's not dinner conversation..."

"It's fine." Logan placed the piece of meat in his mouth and chewed, then grabbed his glass of red wine to wash it down.

_Is this what real families do together every night? _

_I usually spent my early teens getting jerked off by our latest Swedish au pair while the cook made me something from my mother's Atkins recipe book. If Lynn was on a diet, she used to make us all suffer with her. That was our family dinner tradition._

"Well, I think it's interesting, D." Veronica smiled warmly at her younger step-brother.

Darrell continued. "We learned it in AP Bio. That should put me ahead a few credits in my pre-med program next year. Save the old man some money."

Keith put his arm around the teenager sitting to his right. "It's not your job to think about paying for college. It's ours." He motioned between himself and his wife.

Alicia winked at Keith before taking another bite of her potato.

_Is it wrong to be jealous of a 17 year old kid? What he has is even better than money._

It really burned Logan that good people like Alicia and Keith had to struggle to put a smart kid like Darrell through school, while his dad worked six months out of the year, 'relaxed' the other six, and was handed millions in cash for his efforts. "You know, seeing as I'm part of the family now..."

"No." Keith cut him off before he could even make the offer. "We appreciate the gesture, Logan, really we do, but it isn't necessary."

_He's taking the money, even if I have to have the tooth fairy drop it off in unmarked bills._

Veronica's hand landed on his knee under the table and a smile formed on her lips.

"I know it's not necessary, but I want to do it. Darrell is my brother too now, and I have more money than I could possibly spend by myself..."

Keith smiled to himself and then shot Alicia a knowing glance. "It isn't that, son, what I meant was, it _really_ isn't necessary. We have the money, or at least, a good head start."

Veronica cocked an eyebrow in her father's direction. "Porque?"

"Seems your mother has been feeling a little guilty about 'borrowing' from your college fund so many years ago."

His girlfriend took a long sip of cranberry juice and put the glass down a little too roughly. "My mother," she said, gesturing across the table to Alicia,"would never steal from me."

Keith rolled his eyes and then connected them with Logan's, in a pleading stare. "Jake Kane sent over a check today by messenger. It was for the 50K plus interest. The messenger tried to deliver yours here too. I was going to send him over to your house, but I figured you probably didn't need any more strangers lurking around the place, so I took it for you."

"Mine?" Veronica spit out the question like venom. "Oh, are you referring to my Lianne Mars absolution fund? You can tear it up...or better yet, go ahead and keep it for Darrell. I don't want that..." She looked over at Lilly, amiably rearranging peas into the shape of a face on her plate, and checked her language. "that..._person _thinking he's doing me any favors. Though, I guess he's actually doing favors for Lianne. I'm not going to let him buy her way out of her guilt. She did what she did and she can just live with it. I had to."

Her face was flushed with anger.

Logan put his fork down and grabbed Veronica's hand under the table. She looked up at him through her eyelashes and let her head drop heavily onto his shoulder.

The weight of her head there felt right. Even though the topic of conversation was distasteful, the whole scene in front of him felt right. This entire dinner was possibly the first time he'd ever felt right in his life.

Logan was never brazen enough to assume he'd one day find true happiness. He'd seen way too much and lived through too many bad things to believe the lie. If he'd been asked what his odds were this time last year, he would have guessed that locating the end of a rainbow would have been more achievable.

However, he did believe people in contentment. There was a brief period of time – between the kiss on the terrace at The Camelot, and the moment Lamb gleefully broke the news to him that Veronica was the one who came forward with the evidence to have him arrested – that he'd felt it. Contended.

_This is so much better than that. Even just having a stupid family discussion over the dinner table is making me feel giddy. God, I'm fucking pathetic._

He turned his head until his lips connected with Veronica's forehead and she responded by tilting her head to kiss him back on the mouth.

"Y'all are making me lose my appetite, and I'm _all about _steak night," Wallace grumbled as he shoved a piece of meat into his down-turned mouth.

Logan laughed, then picked up his glass of red. Before he could put the glass back down, Veronica swooped in and stole another kiss. He smiled against her lips.

_Why can't somebody invent a way to take a picture of a feeling, already?_

"You're not going to have much success getting drunk off of the wine fumes from a kiss, pregnant lady." He obliged her with yet another peck and nuzzled her cheek. "Veronica Mars: always looking for the back door way out of any dilemma."

She turned to her parents and let out an exasperated sigh. "I give my babby-daddy some sugar, and he accuses me of being a closet drunk. Our relationship? The epitome of health."

"If by health you mean functional-dysfunction, then yes. Our relationship is a veritable Jack LaLanne." Logan tapped the tip of her nose and then her chin.

"You're driving me to the bottle." She stuck her nose into the top of his wine glass and inhaled deeply. "Ah yeah...that's the stuff."

Alicia took a sip of her own wine and giggled. "Go easy, honey. You're still in your 1st trimester. Most doctor's don't advise wine-sniffing until at least the 2nd."

"You heard her." Logan uncurled Veronica's fingers from the side of his glass and put it down onto the table. "Be good."

Veronica responded by planting a distractingly good kiss on him, then grabbing his wine while he wasn't paying attention. "Nope." She took another sniff out of the glass.

_Right. Should have expected that. Those wheels of hers are always spinning._

A disgusted huff came from the man sitting on the other side of Logan. Wallace looked at the couple snuggling next to him and then pushed his chair out from the dinner table. "Y'all are so mushy it's disgusting. May I please be excused?"

"Are you feeling okay, honey?" Alicia asked, in a maternal way she had probably used thousands of times before.

"I'm fine, moms. I've just gotta go bleach my eyes. Ten minutes tops." He sent a parting glare in the clandestine couple's direction and stormed off toward the back porch. Backup's loud barking could be heard as Wallace slid the door open and left the main part of the house.

_I guess that's my cue..._

Veronica grinned at Logan in a suggestive way.

Keith stared with dead eyes at the two of them. "I don't want to know what's going on over there, but it needs to stop."

"I'm already knocked up, pops, what's the worst that could happen?" Veronica asked, in a teasing voice.

_Is she trying to get me killed?_

"On that note..." Logan abruptly rose from the table and pointed in the direction of the porch. He asked permission from Alicia with a shorthand look. "I'm just going to...Wallace."

Keith nodded gruffly and angrily stabbed a bite of steak with his fork.

Darrell placed his fork down and looked at his mom. "Is it okay if I go play some 5th over at Marco's now?"

Alicia gestured toward the door. "And then there were four..."

Logan kissed the top of Veronica's head and left the room.

"I'm still here." Lilly flicked a pea at Veronica.

* * *

By the time Logan reached the back porch, Wallace was already perched on the top of the pool gate, staring at the glass door and waiting for him.

"Took you long enough." His arms were crossed. He didn't look pleased.

_Somebody doesn't look too happy with me._

Wallace scowled at him. "You dumbass fool."

_Okay, make that pissed._

Logan carefully slid the door closed behind him and approached his partner in crime. "Huh. I thought you were really angry there, for a second."

"You think I want to look at the two of you fondling each other while I'm trying to eat? I didn't dig it in high school, and I'm not digging it in my mom's dining room either."

"Sorry, man. That was all her this time." Logan held his hands aloft. "That's why you're mad? You got me out here to ream my ass over fooling around with Veronica?"

"Nah. This is about Vee, though. You didn't tell me she was pregnant."

"I only just found out yesterday."

Wallace's brow furrowed in consternation. "That takes this stalking thing to a whole 'nother level."

"How so?" Logan didn't get it. If something happened to Veronica, pregnant or not, his life was over.

"If something happens to you now, you're not just leaving one person alone, you're leaving two." Wallace looked at him as though he were crazy.

Logan hadn't really thought about it that way. All this time, the only person's life he'd really been thinking about was hers. It hadn't even dawned on him that she might be left alone without him.

_Great, another thing to keep me up at night, now._

"She'll be taken care of. I mean, she's been my beneficiary for the past six years..."

"You never changed that when you broke up?" Wallace was gobsmacked.

"I never loved anybody like I loved her. Never had a relationship with anybody else I seriously considered marrying after her." Logan shrugged and then looked behind himself on either side. "Who else would I leave my estate to?"

"Your sister?" he suggested, as though it were obvious.

_If my sister weren't Trina Echolls, it would be the obvious choice. But she is, so it's not._

"I knew Veronica would know what to do with the inheritance. The only thing Trina would do with the money is blow it on fancy handbags or use it to bankroll craptastic 'independent films' to star in about albino prostitutes in rural Texas." Logan kicked a small collection of dead leaves and watched them scatter across the chattahoochee.

"I didn't cut Trina out, by the way. She may be an absentee sister, but I'm not a total asshole. I left her enough cash to keep her in the Dalmatian coats - to which she has become accustomed – into the next century. I also left her the house in Aspen. Ronnie never was very big on skiing."

"I wasn't talking about your money, man. I'm talking about you. You get murdered...I don't see Veronica just rolling with it." Backup scampered over to Wallace and sniffed his shoes, before turning around and pawing Logan's legs. "You forget what happened with her after Lilly?"

_Forget? Can one forget having a limb amputated? Some memories are equally as debilitating._

Veronica was a hollow shell of herself, a different person altogether after the tragedy. She went from steadfast and determined to dogmatic and relentless. When Lilly died, she took a piece of her best friend's innocence with her to the grave. The thought of her going through that again, but with their baby to take care of too, wasn't an option.

Logan's jaw tightened as his mind flashed to the darkest time in his life. Everything had turned to shit in the blink of an eye. He lost his girlfriend to a glass ashtray, his best friend to a bottle of psychotropic drugs, and his self-respect to the mind-numbing lure of alcohol and loose women.

Looking back, the only thing that gave him solace was that through all of the strife, he'd found Veronica again. They'd connected in a way they probably wouldn't have before, and it changed them both.

Until that day he realized he loved her, he always thought the idea of soul mates was a bunch of bullshit. After all, what would the other half of his fucked up heart look like? How could there possibly be a matching puzzle piece that would mesh perfectly with the thrashed and worn out edges of his frayed soul? His counterpart would have to be just as messed up, but in all the complimentary places.

That was his Veronica. Torn where he wasn't, whole where he was torn.

Who would get him through it if something happened to her this time? Who would be there for her?

"Lilly who?" Logan asked with sarcasm as he bent down to scratch Backup behind his ears.

"If you think she put herself at risk going after the guy who killed her best friend..." Wallace blanched, obviously realizing that 'the guy' he was just referring to was Logan's dad. "Anyway...she could end up getting herself killed. You want your kid to be an orphan?"

_I'm an orphan._

Nausea crept up Logan's insides like poison ivy and seized his heart. He could never damn his own child to a life without parents. Not knowingly. And he was positive Wallace was right about Veronica. If something happened to him, she wouldn't stop until somebody paid.

_She wouldn't stop until everybody paid._

Veronica would be tortured, and he just couldn't bear to imagine her like that again.

He'd finally gotten Veronica back. _His Veronica_. An amalgamation of the sweet girl he'd teased as a child about her tiny soccer shorts, the whip-smart girl detective who could outwit men twice her age, and the take-no-prisoners terminator that she'd eventually turned into.

They were all her, and he finally had them all at once. There was no way in hell he'd let any part of her slip away again.

"What exactly are you proposing I do?"

"That list was bunk!" Wallace pushed himself off of the gate with a rusty creak.

"I'm still not hearing a suggestion anywhere in there, Tesla." Logan pat Backup firmly on the belly, and the old hound rolled over and spread his legs into the air, whimpering for more. He rolled his eyes and continued to massage the dog.

_Yep. Definitely Ronnie's dog._

The background checks Wallace had performed turned up nothing. The drive-by's and drop-in's, while awkward and beyond embarrassing, had revealed squat. He was fresh out of ideas.

"Sorry. I'm a little...stressed." Logan's fingers worked the fur on the dog's belly faster and Backup's hind leg shook rhythmically in accordance.

Wallace shoved his hands into his pockets and shrugged. "My point is, the only lead we had is cold."

"It's not cold." Logan snapped, dismissively. "I did not sell my soul to Madison Sinclair only to come out of it with bupkis. You think the trail is cold? Well, I think we're just going to have to warm that bitch up."

"Yeah? Well, you can go warm your own bitch up, because I am out." Wallace shook his head and started for the glass door.

_Okay, he has to be kidding. There's no way he'd just leave his own step-sister in danger like that._

He jumped up and ran after Wallace, leaving Backup a boneless puddle of bliss on the floor. "Woah, woah! Wait! You said you would help me."

Wallace turned. "And I have, to the best of my ability. You need real help, now."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Logan knew what he meant, but was hoping for a different response to the one he was expecting.

Wallace stared at him blankly. He was clearly above playing these games.

_Somebody up there hates me._

"No. I can't do that." Logan shook his head emphatically. "I already told you, I'm not getting her involved with this."

"She already is involved with this, Logan. You're involved, ergo Vee is involved," he explained, using hand gestures for emphasis. "It's a simple cause and effect equation."

Logan scratched the top of his head and aimlessly turned in a circle, while trying to think of an alternative. Any alternative.

He wouldn't let her anywhere near this case. Getting a call from Weevil that afternoon, to come get Veronica from the hospital, was not a moment he was itching to relive.

Ronnie getting in some kind of trouble while investigating this was almost a certainty. When her loved ones were threatened, she only knew how to do things balls-to-the-wall, a quality he both loved and hated about her.

_I'm not letting her get herself injured or killed trying to protect me. Not happening._

"Look, if you don't tell her..." Wallace sounded and looked more fatigued than he had during Freshman finals week at Hearst. Logan knew he'd done his best, and his best was pretty damn good, but this particular case was proving to be complicated. "...tell Keith."

He nibbled gently on the end of his finger in thought. "You think he'd agree to keep it from her?"

Wallace laughed. "I think he'd try, but I'd bet money she's gonna figure out what's happening sho' enuf. We're talking about Veronica here."

"Yeah." Logan kicked the remaining leaves out of his way with a soft crunch, then turned suddenly with a spark of inspiration. "What about driving up to see the artists who make the stuff? Maybe they gave somebody they knew some cards or gave out some samples? It's worth a shot."

"How far up the coast are they? Bay area? I thought I remembered Berkeley from their website."

"Not anymore. They're in Solvang now." Logan was feeling hopeful again. Any avenue he could go down to keep the Mars family out of it, he would take. "That's what Madison said, at least. She said they move around a lot."

"I'll take off from work tomorrow. Pick you up around 8am?"

_I knew Wallace was a cool guy, but this is Chewbacca level devotion. I wonder how far he would have been willing to go if it were just me, and Bobcat weren't at rick? Venice? San Fernando Valley? Dog Beach?_

Logan couldn't keep the grin from his lips. "I'll pick _you_ up at 9."

An obstinate Wallace held his gaze. "A'ight. But, we're leaving Little Miss Sunshine at home this time, and if this little excursion turns up nothing, we tell Keith."

_It feels weird to have somebody backing me up for a change. _

He brought a stiff hand to his forehead and saluted Wallace's retreating figure, then knelt down next to Backup again, and scratched the former stray dog under his chin. "Is this how it felt when they took you in?"

* * *

The flexible plastic chairs in the mess hall were slightly sticky and fairly uncomfortable, like most things Duncan had experienced so far in prison. They were designed to be lightweight, so they couldn't be used as weapons. If thrown, they would likely just bounce off the victim, leaving a bruise at best.

He found the entire concept ironic. The flimsy chairs may have been safe, but men sitting in them were anything but. Most of the men here didn't need a chair to take care of business, they had their bare hands for that, and those weapons were the deadliest.

Duncan was mindlessly shoving what looked like meatloaf around on his plate with the tip of his fork.

_I should just pick a cause now, because clearly I'm going on a starvation diet for the next six months._

"You eating that, ese?" Hector pointed to the beige-colored mush on his roommate's tray.

_Not a chance in hell._

Without a word, Duncan slid the unwanted food in 'El Toro's' direction and tried to do that silent scream thing he'd perfected in high school.

From the moment he'd first learned that he would be serving a prison sentence, Duncan had been doing nothing but preparing for the inevitable. He read every former convict's memoir he could get his hands on to garner survival tips, had spoken to Weevil extensively to get the first-person low down on what to expect, and had even watched television shows, both reality and fiction, that were set in the joint.

If there was one thing Duncan Kane did well, it was homework. While not a creative thinker, he was methodical and exact when it came to completing tasks. He was sure he was prepared.

He was wrong.

"Thanks, man." Hector dug in, ungracefully shoveling the meat into his gullet. "Oh and hey...there's a guy at...your 9 o' clock." He gestured with his eyes. "He's gonna come over here and start shit with you and then you're gonna deck him. Comprende?"

_Wait, what? No comprendo!_

Duncan's brow quirked at his cellmate. "You're telling me I need to fight a guy? Is this some sort of hazing ritual or something?"

Hector laughed hard. "You been here two hours already and you still don't get it."

"Enlighten me." Dread festered in the pit of his stomach as he watched his new 'amigo' finish the slop he'd just bequeathed him.

"You and me, we got a common _friend._" Hector continued spooning the last few crumbs into his mouth and then shoved the tray away so hard it almost hit the floor. "I'm your guy, bought and paid for."

_A common friend? Weevil?_

"Ahh, I can see that glimmer in your eye. We on the same page now, boss. Right?" Hector slapped Duncan fraternally on the back so hard it knocked the wind out of his lungs. "I got it all set up. You know how to take a punch, right?"

_Uh, no?_

"What are you planning?" Duncan's heart began to race with the specter of the multiple and various horrible possibilities. "I thought I'm paying you to protect me, not hurt me?" Outrage hardened his normally soft features.

"My papi always used to say to me, 'you give a man a tamale and he eats for a day, but teach a man to steal all the tamales, he'll never go hungry again' Good advice, right?"

Duncan brow furrowed. "What?"

_Seriously, huh?_

"You gonna fake it till you make it, boss. We gonna make you look like a tough guy so nobody tries to mess with you." Hector slapped his back a little too hard once again. "Plus, the dude's gonna take a dive in the third, so make it look convincing."

_Make WHAT look convincing?_

"What about the guards? Won't they-?"

"They've already been paid." Hector nodded once at the Latin thug sitting in the 9 o'clock position, and turned back to Duncan with palpable excitement. "Here comes trouble..."

_Fuck! I'm not ready! _

Chardo Navarro walked briskly to the table where Duncan was sitting and slammed his tray down in front of him. "That's my chair."

_Pretend to be somebody else, that's what all the books say. Act tough. You can put on a show, no problem. You did it every day for seven years._

Duncan swallowed hard. He'd been in a few fights before, most of them either with or against Logan, who'd thrown most of the punches, but he'd been _there_ at least.

_What would Logan do?_

"From where I'm sitting, it looks a hell of a lot like my chair." Duncan smirked, then leaned back in his seat with confidence. His fingers grazed the bumpy seam on the smooth white arms of the chair, over and over again, creating the perfect picture of boredom to anyone watching.

Chardo glowered above him. "You sure about that, pendejo?"

Duncan had a dark side he couldn't control. He'd always known it, as did his parents, even if they had tried their hardest to keep it hidden from the public eye.

His rage blackouts were common knowledge now though, thanks to the Aaron Echolls trial. Aaron's legal team had been diligent, scraping up details of every altercation they could manage to get their grubby hands on. They painted him as a monster. And there were times in his life, both before and after he'd been exposed, that he'd wondered if they were maybe right.

But then, he had Lilly to take care of. She was enough of a reason to take control, even if he'd never been able to manage it well in the past. He was all she had, and he had no other option but to succeed. And he had succeeded...until today. Now, what Lilly needed most was for him to bring the rage.

_Lilly...Lilly...Lilly...She needs you to stay alive. _

Without warning, Duncan shot up and tackled Chardo to the floor.

Hector's eyebrows raised, impressed by his charge's vigor. "Damn, blanco!"

Chardo locked his feet around Duncan's legs and rolled the young man over onto his back, then took a swing at him. His fist glanced off his opponent's prominent cheekbone, but there was barely a reaction.

Weevil's sleazy cousin leaned his forearm onto his neck and threatened him in Spanish, but Duncan could barely hear much less understand what he was saying over the whoops and hollars of their fellow inmates. "You'd better pay top dollar like El Toro says you will, because my street cred's gonna take a hit from this one, fresa."

"You know who I am?" Duncan panted through his exertion, his face starting to turn purple.

_How many guys did Weevil promise to pay off? Screw it. My dad can afford it and he fucking owes me._

"I remember you from high school. I'm just checking to make sure you ain't one of them rich cheapskates. I always hated those stingy 09er motherfuckers." Duncan's fist connected with Chardo's jaw and he grunted in pain. "You weren't so bad, not like that asshole, Echolls." He threw another punch that landed in the same spot.

"You know I fucked his girlfriend right under his nose?" Chardo popped Duncan in the nose, giving him a nosebleed and then laughed. "Caitlin even sucked me off once in the back of his car."

"Shut the fuck up about Echolls." Duncan flipped Chardo back over into a defensive position and started wailing on him hard. "Not all rich people are stingy motherfuckers. Some of us just like to get what we paid for." With that, he reared his fist back and knocked Chardo out cold.

Hector grabbed a spent and bleeding Duncan by his underarms like a rag doll, and lifted him back onto his weedy legs.

"Conquistador!" He held Duncan's bloody right fist in the air like a winning prizefighter, and then leaned in to whisper. "That was fucking badass. Where'd you learn to fight like that, ese?"

Duncan smiled for the first time since being admitted to prison and wiped the blood from his nose with the back of his hand. "Would you believe the FBLA club at Neptune High?"

Hector chuckled, amused by what he assumed to be a lie. "Fuck off!"

Loud cheers fast turned into quiet murmurs upon the arrival of a new prisoner. Hector looked around, his antennae engaged, and lowered Duncan's hand before releasing it. "Let's hope that worked."

"Well, well, well...what do we have here?" Duncan didn't recognize the voice, but something about it make the hair on the back of his neck snap to attention. "A newbie."

_Don't turn around. Make him come to you. Stay alpha. Chris Meloni wouldn't have turned around in the show 'Oz'._

"What? You're too good to pay your respects?" the voice snarled in a husky tone. "That's not very neighborly of you..."

_Shit. This is going to escalate if I don't look at him soon._

Duncan slowly turned to face his new acquaintance and almost did a double take. With his head freshly-shaven and his physique finely honed, he would be easy to lump in with the other tattooed skinheads in the joint. But this was no ordinary skinhead. Most skinheads don't make the evening news as often as this one used to. "Hey."

"Hey dude!" the man said mockingly, as a sadistic smile split his infamous face. "You're making yourself awfully cozy in _my_ mess hall for a newbie, ain't you?"

_This is it, DK, your moment of truth. You fold now and you may as well tie your wrists to your ankles, because you will be fucked until the day they unlock your cell...that is, if you manage to stay alive until then. _

Then he did something he never thought he'd have the stomach to do, he decided to channel his sister's murderer.

In the movie _'Rock Hard'_, Aaron played a pre-Naziism Nazi turned jailhouse bully, named Adolf Boomhauer, who lied and cheated his way off of the prison island of Alcatraz. Aaron's performance was as hammy as anything else he'd done, but Duncan was 12, so it still scared the crap out of him, and he refused to go to the Echolls' house for two weeks afterward. Logan seemed oddly frightened by his dad then, too.

_I should've refused to go over there ever again. Maybe Lilly would still be alive?_

Blood dribbled from Duncan's nose into his mouth and the metallic taste soured his tongue. It was still better than anything they served in the kitchen. "A guy's gotta eat somewhere, right?"

Blue eyes flashed at him with malice. "What's your name,_ cowboy_?" The man stretched out every syllable in a sing-songy tone, instantly emasculating the butch word.

_Keep him on edge. He's expecting you to cower. WWABD? (What would Adolf Boomhauer do?)_

Duncan wiped his nose on his sleeve and smiled at the man. "Oh, we're doing this whole dance?"

"Well, lookie here, boys...we finally got some fresh blood worth spitting at. You're sitting on a big set of stones there, _cowboy._" Spittle flew off the angry man's mouth and landed on his opponent's cheek. He then turned to address the crowd. "How big do you suppose the cajones are that this _cowboy_ is sitting on?"

Catcalls rang out from the back of the room and Duncan felt his blood run cold.

"Big enough." Despite the fear ripping through his chest with white hot pain, Duncan took a step forward, letting the spit remain where it landed. "You know exactly who I am, and I know exactly who you are, Liam Fitzpatrick."

They locked eyes for a moment, neither man backing down.

"You're okay, Kane." Liam shrugged and offered up a begrudging smile. "And to think, I bet my cousin Danny 20 bucks that you'd be on your knees sucking my cock by now."

Danny Boyd's hissing laughter floated over the crowd.

"Sorry." Duncan's features took on a condescending hue. "You're just not my type, Fitzpatrick."

A throaty chuckle ripped from Liam Fitzpatrick's stocky body as he threw an arm a little too roughly around Duncan's shoulders. "I think it's time we took this little dinner date to my private office."

_Does he want to have sex with me? Please let him want my money and not my body._

_Not a phrase I thought would ever come out of my mouth._

"What for?" Duncan was so busy trying to will his upper lip to stop sweating, that he didn't notice Hector approaching from behind until he'd already appeared in front of him.

"Going somewhere, with my boy, motherfucker?" Hector hissed.

Two of his guys moved to stand next to him, to get his back.

_You've got a crew of down-n-out PCHers behind you, just dying to make a buck. You're golden._

Liam cocked his head to the side and pursed his lips. "This ain't your business, Paco."

"That's where you're wrong."

Ignoring Hector and his crew, Liam dusted off his orange jumpsuit in a faux attempt to look dapper. "I got a proposition for you, Kane. You get a lot of those?"

His eyes shot daggers at Hector, daring him to interrupt.

_Shit. That line could go either way. _

"A guy with my kind of money gets a lot of everything." Duncan said loud enough for everyone in the near vicinity to hear. He may as well let them all know he can afford to pay for favors.

_NOT sexual favors!_

Liam racked Duncan slightly tighter against his body and grinned down at him with the authenticity of a used car salesman. "You and me? I think we're gonna get along like bangers and mash. What do you think, Danny?"

_Is that a euphemism? Oh God. _

"Bangers and mash!" Danny Boyd laughed manically at his cousin Liam's joke. "That's a good one, Liam."

"Shut the fuck up, Danny," Liam growled.

Hector waved over several more guys and got in Liam's face. "Oye, you Mick, because I'm not gonna say it twice. This one is mine." He pointed at Duncan, who looked up at him helplessly from the Irishman's tight embrace.

"His skin don't look brown to me. You a beaner, Kane?" Liam was as entertained by this confrontation, as Duncan was frightened.

As he opened his mouth to answer the mob boss, a cabal of stick wielding guards charged into the room, ripping him from Liam's side and shoving him roughly toward the side of the room, where the other prisoners were being corralled.

_I never thought I'd be so happy to see a prison guard in my life._

Duncan collapsed against the wall in relief.

_If this is day one, how the hell am I going to make it six months here?_

* * *

Lilly was fast asleep in the backseat of Logan's car by the time they pulled into the driveway of their home. Since the 'tragedy', as Veronica had begun calling it, they'd taken to using a portable explosives detector kit each time and every time they reentered the car, which made going from place to place a very time-consuming and arduous task.

As Veronica watched Logan drive, she marveled at how easily he could maneuver the car at night. She still struggled to drive during daylight hours.

_I hope they clear me to drive soon. I hate being an invalid._

Logan's eyes were fixed on the road and his forehead pinched in concentration. He gripped the leather steering wheel in the proper 10-and-2 positions, and Veronica admired the way his hands managed to be both masculine and elegant at the same time, and longed to have them roaming her sensitive skin.

_Is it getting hot in here? Why am I so turned on right now? These fucking pregnancy hormones are going to be the end of me._

From the cover of darkness a rough voice emerged. "Don't think you're home free on that paternity business you ambushed me with in the hallway right before dinner."

She blushed. He obviously felt her staring at him, and by the expression on his face, he knew exactly what she was thinking of too. "Now why on Earth would I think you'd let something like that go when you can use it to your advantage?"

He laughed softly and licked his lips. "Why indeed. Having leverage makes life with you so much more enjoyable."

"Until you lose it. Then it becomes decidedly _less_ enjoyable, no?" Her brows lifted in question.

Palm trees with twinkle lights wrapped around their trunks whipped past the window, their fronds still camouflaged by shadows.

_Dad and I used to come out here and look at Christmas lights when I was in high school. Since we weren't allowed to decorate our rental unit on the outside, and we couldn't afford to run our tree lights all night on the inside, coming here was like entering a wonderland. I used to think this place was magical. _

Veronica still had a hard time accepting that this was neighborhood in which she lived. It was too pristine, too wealthy, and entirely too beautiful. Even when her family wasn't struggling, they'd never lived the way her friends had.

She would never mention this to Logan. If he knew how uncomfortable she still felt living in his gorgeous, seaside mansion, it would ruin the holiday season for him. She would get used to it somehow. She would do it for him.

Logan cocked his ear in her direction. "Is 'less enjoyable' code for 'living hell'?"

"I never used those words." Veronica threw her head back against the headrest. "Anyway, if I remember correctly, you were the one who said you wanted to make me pay for my sins."

He looked at her fully with doubt, then quickly turned his face back to the road. "When did I say that?"

"At Gory's. That night, before we first..." Veronica looked in the mirror of her sun visor to make sure Lilly was still asleep. She leaned over the center console and pressed her mouth to the edge of Logan's ear. "Fucked."

The tang of his skin lingered on her lips.

_Heel!_

"Ah, yes. And I will, don't you worry." He couldn't repress his grin. "You get very turned on by vehicles, don't you, Mars? Now I know what to get you for Christmas. A fast car with a big back seat? An Xterra, perhaps?"

"Don't you dare..." She scowled on the outside, but inside she was recalling all of the heated times she'd spent half-dressed in the backseat of his Xterra. Her pulse sped up.

_If I weren't already pregnant, these stupid hormones would totally get me in trouble._

"I know how much you used to love to _spread out _in mine," he continued. "In fact, If I remember correctly, there was this one position you-"

"Logan!" She slapped his arm. "Lilly is in the back."

He checked the little girl out in the rear view mirror. "She's asleep."

Veronica rolled her eyes. "Yeah, as far as you know. I wouldn't put it past her to fake it."

"Fair point."

Logan turned onto their street and casually waved to the hired guard parked opposite their house, then pushed the button to open their electronic gate.

As they waited for it to open, Logan's knee started to shake. Veronica leaned over and placed her warm hand on it. "Why are you nervous?"

He let out a puff of air that sounded vaguely like a laugh and cast his gaze at his feet. "I'm not nervous. Why would I be nervous?"

_I've known him since he was 12, and I'm a trained profiler. Does he honestly think I can't tell?_

"Oh, I don't know, honey. Maybe because of the dangerous stalker who sneaked onto our property recently, undetected?"

Even in the dim light, she could see his chest begin to rise and fall more rapidly. "You know about the stalker?" he asked, in a strained whisper.

"Uh...he did strap a bomb under my car and leave a present for me on our front porch." Veronica observed him more closely. "How could I miss him?"

_Why does he suddenly seem relieved?_

"Right." He looked up at her with a dazzling smile. "I was just joking."

_Like hell you were. What kind of mess are you involved with now, Logan Echolls, and what am I going to have to do to clean it up?_

He rolled slowly into the parking spot and cut the motor. "Home sweet home."

"We'll find out soon enough." She climbed slowly from the car, wielding a police-grade, ultra-violet light in hand and a large spray bottle filled with fluorescein.

_I know I'm being paranoid, but after a car bomb, a house bomb, and a stabbing, I feel like I'm entitled to act a little Nixon about it._

"When I said I wanted for us to have a normal life together, this was not exactly what I envisioned. Ah well, what can you do?" Logan retrieved the explosives detector from the floor of the back seat and stepped out of the driver's side of the car. He passed the machine over the nearby shrubbery, careful to check every crevice. "Weevil's doing a crap job at trimming the hedges. Remind me to fire him."

Veronica stood on the porch, leaning over the alarm keypad and shot off a spray of the fluorescent dust, careful to turn her head so she wouldn't inhale. Next, she aimed the flashlight at it. One set of fingerprints emerged on the correct code numbers, which would have been fine, if she weren't nearly positive that she'd wiped the pad clean before they left.

Reaching for her holster, she took the safety off of the gun.

_There's no way he's letting me go in there without him, but somebody has to stay outside with Lilly while the house is checked. Seeing as I'm the only one professionally-licensed to use a gun, I vote he stays outside with the kid._

"Hey, Lo?" Logan looked up at her from the bushes where he knelt. "Can you do me a favor and get Lilly out of her booster seat? I really have to pee. Damn my stupid, pregnant-woman bladder."

_That should give me a full hour. For some reason, he just cannot get the hang of that thing._

"I love you and all your pregnant parts." He smiled boyishly. "Especially your pregnant-parts."

"You'll have to show me how much, once we put her to bed." Veronica pointed at Lilly and then blew him a kiss, before opening the front door with her key.

* * *

Veronica shoved the flashlight in the waistband of her skirt and quickly closed the door behind her, locking it in order to buy some more time if Logan miraculously finished extracting Lilly from the car seat faster than she'd anticipated.

_It's really inconvenient to be stalked in a big house. The guy could literally be hiding anywhere. I'll put that on the list of 'reasons it is better to be poor'. _

She drew her gun and set about checking the house.

With her free hand, Veronica turned on the UV light again, pulled her shirt over her nose and mouth and then sprayed a fine mist of powder on the floor, right by the entrance.

The house keeper came over early this morning. Veronica had asked her specifically to mop the floors more than once, to rid them of the herd of footprints left by the cops as they combed their house for explosives the day before.

___There should be three sets of footprints on this floor. _If anybody else came through this door, they would have had to pass over this spot.

She placed the bottle of fluorescein on the rug by her feet and pulled the flashlight from her belt.

Most prominent, were Lilly's unmistakable impressions, tiny and close together, indicating her fast gait.

Much larger prints, heavier with longer strides ran parallel to Lilly's. She knew from the shoes he was wearing tonight, that those were Logan's.

The outlines of her boots were also on the floor, marking a haphazard pattern that echoed the crazy morning she had, running back and forth into the house a few times when she'd forgotten things. She could recognize her own prints even without the fancy equipment.

A fourth set of prints began to emerge, larger than her own, yet smaller than Logan's. The strangest thing about them, is that they weren't shoe prints at all, they were footprints. Bare, female footprints.

Veronica placed her shoe next to one of them to compare size.

_I'm a size six, so she can't be more than an eight-eight and a half. _

That ruled out their Amazonian housekeeper from Nigeria, who wore at least a size 10.

Veronica pulled her shirt over her face again and grabbed the spray bottle from the floor. She walked alongside the barefoot trail, chasing the prints with the power as she sprayed, until they dead-ended in front of the $3,000 copper monstrosity Logan had insisted on buying for the kitchen.

Lying in front of the espresso machine with a note beneath it, was one perfect, white, long-stemmed rose.

_I've seen this rose before. In the foyer. But, Logan got it for me._

Her finger hovered over the lever, and Veronica aimed carefully, holding her breath as she pulled it back.

The rose, which had formerly been a pristine shade of ivory, was now an angry-looking red. She lifted the light to the rose and found fingerprints on the petals, the note, and even their counter top.

She roughly exhaled the breath she'd been holding and smiled her relief. "Gotcha."

* * *

**A/N – So, I know how much you all love Duncan (cough cough) but I hope you found this scene intriguing. Don't know if you can see where this is headed, but rough waters are ahead for poor Duncan, and my attempt is to make him interesting in the process. If I can make you root for him like I made some of you root for Gory in the last fic, I will be happy. It'll be easier to root for DK, I think.**

**MaDi will return in the next chapter, along with Weevil. So much to do, so little space!**

**My undying devotion to silverlining2k6 for slogging through a million versions of my prison scene without killing me.**

**I have no idea how old Darrell is supposed to be, but here, he's 17 and in high school. **

**Please let me know what you thought in a REVIEW, if you have the time/desire. I'm hoping that my version of Liam was both in-character and also creeped the shit out of you in the process :)**

**Thanks to everybody who put this story as a favorite!**


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N – Thank you so much for the HUGE outpouring of reviews. It was amazing to hear from so many of you. If that's the kind of response a long chapter gets me, then I'm doing it again. This chapter is so big that NY mayor Michael Bloomberg is going to have it outlawed like he did the super gulp.**

**RE: the last chapter - a few of you were not happy with Logan's behavior in the hallway and called it OOC. What can I say? I can't please everybody with every scene, but I try. I think the tone didn't translate the way I wanted it to. He wasn't supposed to seem devastated by the lie, just thrown for a moment. Having it happen in front of Keith didn't help his mindset. ****I probably could have finessed that better- and maybe I'll go back and do that at some point. **

**For those of you who thought Keith was OOC, I respectfully disagree. He just found out his unmarried daughter, who just got stabbed, was pregnant. He was irate and reactionary. We've seen him like this on the show before (when Alicia accused him of treating V like she was 40, when he found out she helped Duncan/Lilly). He doesn't take humor well when he's pissed off. Just know, I'm definitely taking all of your comments to heart, so know that you've been heard. **

**I know I've been a little slow about responding to all of your reviews, but I've been working on two multi-chapter fics at once (the other one is called 'The Morning After' and it's for 'That 70's Show' fandom), so I've been swamped. I promise I will get to them eventually, but I figured you'd rather have a faster update than a response. The comments are all very much appreciated, I swear. **

**FYI - this chapter is rated M. There's (finally!) SMUT in the MaDi scene! **

**Without further ado...on with the show!**

* * *

Previously: Veronica told her father she was pregnant and they had a big family dinner to celebrate. Wallace agreed to go with Logan to Solvang to track down the artists who made the stationary, on the condition that he agree to tell Keith about his stalker if nothing came up. Duncan arrived in prison to discover Hector, Weevil's former PCHer friend and leader of the Latin prison gang, was his roommate and paid bodyguard. Chardo (in prison for theft) staged a fist fight with Duncan in the mess hall to establish Duncan as a prison badass, not to be messed with. Liam caught wind of Duncan's arrival, and He (with Danny Boyd in tow) tried to convince Duncan to have a private chat, away from Hector. Tensions were eased by a sudden riot breaking out, forcing all inmates back into their cells. Upon arrival at their beach house, Veronica noticed fingerprints on their alarm keypad, and through the use of fluorescein powder and a UV light, she discovered a set of bare, female footprints in her living room leading to the kitchen, where she discovered the latest rose and note from Logan's stalker.

* * *

**CHAPTER 13**

"Oh Logan, you idiot." Veronica stood dumbfounded in front of her boyfriend's 'Mothra' of an espresso machine, staring at the crime scene, with absolutely no idea what to do next.

It was a new sensation for her, being two steps behind. She wasn't exactly a fan.

_What did you do, Logan?_

The rose lying in front of the coffee maker was as delicate as the one she'd found days earlier in the foyer. The rose Logan lied to her about when she assumed he had left it for her.

The note, which she held open with a fork, was a poem. A haiku, to be specific, about love and loss and the writer ominously promised to be 'always watching'.

_Always watching? _

_How long has this been going on? How many times has this person been in our house?_

Veronica glanced at the strange set of footprints in the foyer, illuminated only by her UV light and the moon on the other side of the glass wall, and felt her anger rise.

_Who is this woman?_

She needed time to figure things out without Logan complicating matters. He'd been lying to her for God knows how long, and she couldn't take the chance that he'd lead her down the wrong path – whether by accident or by misdirection. He couldn't be trusted.

_Trust. Not that it's a hot button issue with us or anything..._

But she was well within her rights not to trust him now. She was the professional. She had the expertise and experience. He was just a pulp fiction writer of crime novels based on _her_ life. Whatever he thought he was doing, if he was even doing anything at all, clearly wasn't working.

_I knew he was hiding something, but this...what was he thinking? _

Logan was in way over his head trying to deal with this alone, especially with the simultaneous death threat being aimed at her. In his own misguided way, she knew he was was trying to shelter her (as asinine as that idea seemed), but this was absolute insanity.

_I'm paid by the government to protect other people. He's a civilian, and he thinks he's better qualified to protect me? I can protect me! The ego on that man!_

It all came down to bravado. Men and their stupid bravado. The irony is that by trying to protect her, Logan may have been doing more harm than good. There wasn't a doubt in her mind that evidence had been compromised or even lost on his watch. How could it be otherwise?

_I can't trust him with this. I have to get him away from the crime scene and upstairs until I get a chance to bag and record everything. He can't know I know or he's going to interfere and screw up the investigation._

Veronica pulled out her cell phone and drafted a message to her dad, briefly explaining the situation and asking him to swing by after she and Logan fell asleep. He had a copy of their house key and knew their alarm code. He would do a quick and efficient job. She just had to keep Logan away from the kitchen until sunrise.

Just as her finger hovered over the send button, she heard the front door jostle. "Shit!"

The send button was touched, and she hopscotched her way to the front door, careful not to step on any of the prints. "I'm coming! Hang on!"

She caught her breath and then unlocked the door, letting it open just a crack.

"Is she still asleep?" Veronica asked at top volume, rousing Lilly from her comfortable slumber in Logan's arms.

He sighed his annoyance. "She _was_ asleep."

_I woke her already? Awesome!_

"Lilly? Lilly honey?" Veronica stroked Lilly's cheek with one hand while covertly tickling her side with the other.

_Come on, girl. Do what you do best. Give him a hard time._

"What are you doing?" His eyes narrowed in accusation at Veronica. "Are you trying to make my life difficult?"

_No more difficult than you're making mine, darling._

She affected a smile and pressed a kiss to the side of his mouth. "Always."

Her fingers continued to poke at her goddaughter's ribs, out of sight.

_Wake up, kid!_

"Auntie Veeeeeee." Lilly grumbled and then started kicking at her. "Stop it!"

_Jackpot!_

"What is wrong with you? I just spent half of her childhood trying to get her out of that car seat without waking her and you undid all of it in less than 30 seconds!" He gave her a cross look, which quickly morphed into a triumphant smirk. "You are _so_ going to make this up to me later."

_If anybody has some making up to do, it's totally you._

Veronica rolled her eyes. "Just get her upstairs and bathed and if I'm still awake when you come to bed, I'll see what I have energy for. Just make sure you come directly to bed. I might be passed out if you stop for a midnight snack or something."

"Be still my heart." He echoed her eye roll. "That's the kind of sexy talk you're going to need to curb once the baby arrives."

She pursed her lips seductively. "Then you'd better get her upstairs quickly, if you want a piece of my hot action."

"Promises, promises..." Logan dropped a swift peck on her lips as he attempted to pass through the door.

"Uncle Loooogan." Lilly deliriously lolled around in his waning grasp. "I want to play x-box!"

He looked at Veronica with venom. "Now, look what you've started."

Logan walked over the threshold and Veronica threw herself in his path once again. "Oh, hey listen. I had a little bit of an accident with the fluorescein. It was leaking, I didn't notice. Long story short, it's looks like the surface of Mars in our living room."

"Well, if you had to make it look like any planet..." He shrugged. "Nneka will get to it in the morning. I'll leave a note."

"I'll do it. You just get Lilly upstairs." She shut the door behind them and guided Logan through the darkness toward the staircase, careful not to let him tread through the red dust.

He stopped at the base of the stairs. "I know this is a crazy question, but could you possibly, I don't know, turn on a light?"

Veronica clung to his arm and lifted her mouth to his ear, speaking with a breathy whisper. "This is more romantic."

_Okay, maybe I went a little overboard. He's going to think I'm a lunatic._

His eyes shifted suspiciously toward her. "Keith said you'd get weird while pregnant."

"Hormones." She threw her hands in the air, in a 'What can you do?' gesture.

Logan shook his head and muttered to himself as he carried a struggling Lilly upstairs.

_Come on, dad. Time to hustle. We're burning moonlight here._

* * *

Four hours of searching for a tiny piece of plastic and metal. Just a micro USB outlet with a chip at the end. It was small, but at the same time, it was everything. Mac's future was riding on it.

_There's no way I lost it. I'm not the type of person who loses things!_

Dick was still there by her side. Diligently assisting her in her madness. Uncomplaining, even as she continued to keep him in the dark as to the purpose of their mission.

They'd taken a break for an early dinner around the time word arrived of Veronica's visit to the ER. Hearing of her friend's knife attack brought back memories of Leo's death.

Mac's anxiety over the missing item escalated. She could have an 'accident', or at least, it would look like one. Playing the pawn of two dangerous men put her in exponential danger. Either way, somebody would be shafted, and she just hoped it wouldn't be her. Or worse yet, _him._

_And it would be all my fault. _

Dick made them veggie burgers, (although he refused to call them burgers) referring to them only as Soylent Green patties. He'd acted out the death scene from Hamlet with each bite, claiming she'd orchestrated a widespread soybean holocaust.

For a brief moment, he'd taken her mind off of her troubles. And for that alone, she knew it was stupid to fight what they had together. It was what it was and who was she to judge? Only the girl who hadn't dated somebody she truly liked in years.

_The boy ate mung beans today for me. Mung beans! Then he spent hours on his knees looking for a pen drive. _

Mac watched as Dick gathered the covers off of her bed into a ball and tossed them into the corner. She wished it was for the purpose of having his way with her, rather than to search for a pen drive she wanted no part of.

_Except I'm the one person in Neptune Dick Casablancas refuses to have his way with!_

He said he was in it for the long haul, and that she should stop thinking so much and just believe him. Mac figured that after the time he put in today, she at least owed him that much.

"I know it's all hush hush, but can you at least tell me what it looks like? All you ever said was 'It looks like a pen drive'." Back in search mode now, Dick was diligent in his technique.

She had no idea he could be so exact and organized, but the man did run several successful businesses, so he must be doing something right, even if it was just surrounding himself with the right people.

_Cassidy was meticulous too. Maybe they're not so different after all...in the good ways, at least._

"It looks like a pen drive, because it's a pen drive." Mac pulled from the hamper the silk dress she wore on her date, and shook it roughly.

Dick looked at her blankly and in response, she let out a primal scream.

"Damn, Mackie, dial it back a notch. You're scaring the neighbors' dogs." He dropped to his knees and peered under her bed to look for the drive.

They'd gone over her steps at least three times today, but the problem with getting drugged, is that you don't always remember all of your steps.

_I should burn this dress._

Mac's thoughts dissolved into a foggy haze, where large hands roamed her body freely and she was helpless to do anything to stop them.

She crushed the offending garment into a tight ball and pegged it at the opposing wall. "Sorry. It's just very very important that we find that drive."

"So you have mentioned..." Dick stretched his good arm under her bed frame and felt around. "And yet, it's kind of hard for me to grasp exactly how important when you're not givin' me the 'Full Monty'."

"I'm going to choose to assume that's your own little metaphor for me divulging information, rather than you asking me to flash you my lady parts?"

_Lady parts? Way to class things up, MacKenzie._

"I'm game for either, but since I already got an eyeful of your 'Downtown Abbey' earlier, how about we go just with the information first?"

_It's not Downtown, it's Downton. Okay, I need to stop and focus._

She ran a tired hand through her air-dried hair and grimaced. The last make-out session on her bed must have mussed up and knotted it while it was drying.

_Nothing like having that 'freshly fucked' look, sans the actual fucking. _

_I'd rather have things the other way around._

With a scowl screwed onto her face, Mac continued to try to work out the knots in her hair, with a little too much vigor.

Dick groaned. "Come on. I'm not getting any younger here. I mean, it's not like the pen drive contains government secrets or something."

Her expression dropped and she bit the end of her thumb nail.

"That pen drive contains government secrets?!" Dick popped up from under the bed and climbed on the mattress to face her.

Wiedman would probably kill her, but what choice did she have? It's not like Dick would just let this whole thing go. Not after she staggered home drugged the other night with a hickey she had no memory of.

"Sort of." She dropped backward onto the mattress to rest her head. "It has proprietary information from the CIA embedded into it, but no actual government secrets, per se."

"Per se?" Dick slid down next to her on the bed and turned on his side so she could see his amused expression. "Espionage is supposed to be sexy, Mac."

Mac rolled her eyes. "Sorry I couldn't accommodate your needs."

"I didn't say that." His fingers walked over to her side of the bed and onto the outside of her thigh, where he absentmindedly drew shapes as he spoke. "But seriously, what's on the drive and where did you get it?"

_Here we go..._

"Clarence Wiedman. He was at the restaurant that night." Mac stared at the mattress, needing a blank space to focus on as she collected her thoughts. "He sent me a message through a waiter to meet him in the bathroom. And so I did. That's where he gave me the pen drive."

"You met this dude in the bathroom?" Dick's eyes looked vaguely alarmed at her account. "He wasn't the one who - - ?"

"No." Mac shook her head. "I started feeling weird just before I saw him."

_...though he was the one who had the waiter put the message in the drink. Could he have paid the waiter to drop in a little something extra? _

The seeds of doubts started to take root in her mind and grow. Just remembering how she felt when she woke up the next morning drove a shiver down her spine.

"Hey." Dick's hand decamped her thigh for the side of her face. "You look a little...are you okay?"

_No._

She smiled to ease his worry. "I'm crackerjack."

His eyes crinkled as he observed her closely. "Well, that's a load of horseshit. But since you're not one of those Chatty Cathys, I'm just gonna let it go. Just know, that _I _know that you're full of shit."

Mac's eyes fell on his face and she nodded.

_How does he do that? I'm a kick-ass poker player, but I must have some kind of 'tell' that only he can see, because he can always figure out when I'm lying._

"You and Ronnie, man. Peas in a pod." Dick scooted over to her side of the bed and took her in his arms, guiding her mop of matted hair on his chest.

_This feels good. It's still way too weird to be like this with him. _

_He is Cassidy's brother!_

_Screw that. I've known him way longer than I ever knew Cass, and way better, too. _

_Cassidy is HIS brother._

Once Mac was settled, Dick stroked the side of her arm to prompt her. "You didn't finish."

She closed her eyes to help herself remember. The events were fuzzy. "This wasn't the first drive Wiedman's given me. He gave me one that day he caught me snooping through Jake Kane's study while I was dressed as Veronica."

Mac flashed back to playing tag team with Gory Sorokin, dropping Jake's stolen drive out of the window for him to retrieve and hand off to Veronica.

They went through all that trouble, only for her to return it an hour later in exchange for Wiedman's protection.

_Clarence was at the restaurant that night. He knew I was with Alexei. How did I get drugged and molested if he was skulking around in the background? It's not like the guy is bad at his job. He's the head of Kane's security team, for fuck's sake._

_Did he knowingly allow me to get drugged or did he do it himself? _

Either way, nothing made much sense to her anymore. Everything about the past couple of months had been like a morphine-tinged dream, and she was beginning to wonder if for her, the nightmare was just beginning.

"Back up. You did what?" Dick raised his head to see her better.

"We did our little Mission Impossible routine at the Kane estate. It was the morning after your...'accident'." A puff of laughter escaped her lips at the absurdity of that description. Only in Neptune would one describe getting shot and having your car run off the road was an 'accident', for lack of a better description. "Anyway, I stole the hard drive from Jake's computer and Wiedman caught me. Then we worked out a deal."

Dick slid out from under her and then hovered over her small frame. "You're a double agent, aren't you? Like Inspector Gadget."

"Pretty sure Inspector Gadget was not a double agent." She squirmed a bit at his accusation. "But, yeah. I guess that's the gist of it."

His lips quirked into a lopsided grin as he looked down on her. "Cindy MacKenzie. You little badass."

"That's me," Mac said flatly.

She could feel the flush rising through her body even before it reached her cheeks.

"Can't deny it, Machiavelli. You as a spy? Getting me kinda hard. Can't lie."

Her mouth dropped open and she sucked in a hit of air.

"Aww, you're embarrassed. That's only going to make me harder, so just stop." Dick tightened his mouth into a hard line. "Stop."

_Like I would stop if I could! Why can't he just throw me down on the carpet and have his way with me, already? I feel like a middle-aged divorcee on the prowl!_

"Okay, I'm stopping." Mac took another breath, trying to exhale the embarrassment from her body.

"You were saying?" Dick inadvertently pressed his erection against her leg and she forgot what she was about to say.

"I...uh..." She shook her head to get the cobwebs out. "I just didn't know how I was going to get out of the Alexicon situation without a heavy hitter involved."

_Plus, he promised to keep you safe._

"So how's he getting you out?" Dick licked his lips as his eyes toured her body through her clothes. He was making her feel naked, which only brought the blush back into her cheeks.

"He wanted me to release a virus."

Dick sat up and ran a hand through his hair. "Shit. That's really serious, Mac. I don't like it."

"Yeah, well neither did I, which was why I refused." She grabbed his free hand and helped herself sit up.

"Good." Dick's expression hardened. "It's not like you need more of a reason to be a target."

_You're the target._

"Right. So, I came up with a new plan." Mac reached for her handbag and brought it onto the bed, dumping out the entire contents in front of her to look in it one more time for the missing drive. "I told him I could program the software I'm making in reverse."

She handed Dick her empty bag, which he searched thoroughly, turning each pocket out to check inside as she examined all of the dumped items one by one.

"You're doing an anti-hacking software, right?"

Mac nodded and handed him her comb and lip balm to replace into the bag.

His eyes narrowed. She could feel the weight of his stare on her as he worked out the consequences of her plan. "So what you're designing...is a hacking program? Kane wants to break into the mainframe of Alexicon?"

"Kinda."

"Damn." Dick rubbed his injured shoulder to get a knot out. "That's some Trojan horse action, you've got goin' on."

_Ha. And people say he's stupid. Rubes._

"Wiedman's been feeding me bits and pieces of proprietary software to help build it. It's the kind of software that the government uses to hack into the computer systems in other countries, specifically the Russian Federation. It's not enough to leave a trail, but enough to shave six months off of my development."

"So, you think Alexei drugged you and stole the drive?" Dick grabbed her cell phone off of the pile and placed it in her satchel.

Mac handed him the last few items to replace and shrugged. "I did...but now I'm not so sure."

"Wiedman?"

"He was there, but I don't know." For a woman who was used to having all of the answers, she was feeling very lost. "I just don't know. It could have been either of them."

"Maybe my fist needs to sit down and have a chat with this Wiedman?" Dick puffed his chest out.

Mac ran a hand through her knotted hair. "Please don't. I don't need two scary men threatening to kill you. Plus, Wiedman's like, former CIA or something. You don't want to mess with him."

When he didn't answer immediately, she nudged him with her foot. "Dick, please?"

He expelled a long breath, but she could tell he was anything but relaxed. "Yeah, okay."

_Crap. He is the worst liar._

Dick stretched out his uninjured arm and wrapped it around Mac's waist, pulling her slight body onto his lap with no effort. He rested his chin on her shoulder. Her pulse quickened with the sudden contact. It was all still so new.

She tipped the side of her head against his. "What are you doing?"

"You were too far. You said we needed to put our heads together on this one."

Mac smiled against his cheek. "When did I say that?"

Dick shrugged. "Just go with it."

He pushed her back down onto the bed and closed the distance between them.

"This is going to be a long fucking week." With a labored exhale, he buried his face into the curve of her neck.

_You have got to be freaking kidding me! _

"It doesn't have to be..." Her hands found their way down to the bulge in his pants.

Dick grabbed her hands and pinned them over her head. "Bad Mackie!"

Her face crumpled into a pained frown. "I'm trying to be!"

"I know. It's just...I'm trying not to be, okay?"

The look of affection he was giving her made her breath catch in her chest. "Okay."

_This is going to be a long fucking week._

"Although..." Dick fiddled with the button on her cargo pants. "You can be as bad as you want."

_Oh thank God!_

She cleared her throat. "How does that work exactly?"

Dick lowered the zipper on her trousers and sighed. "If you don't know how this works by now, you've had some pretty craptastic lays."

Her mind flashed to the 30 seconds that Cassidy had been inside of her and she felt ill.

_Hello? Sexy guy with his hand down your pants. This is not the time to be skipping down the grimy, back alley of memory lane._

His fingers paused under the waistband of her underwear. "You want to do this, right?"

"Do you want to do this?" She gripped the sheet on either side of her as she braced for his response.

Dick snickered. "I'm a dude. The girl I'm into has given me an all-access pass to her 'pleasure dome'. What do you think?"

_I think you need to stop making veiled 'Max Max' references and get on with it._

"I think you have a interesting way with metaphors," she offered.

"Take your shirt off."

Mac was caught off guard by the demand, but followed orders without a second thought. She lifted the hem of her t-shirt and slowly pulled it off over her head, feeling the heft of his gaze on her body the entire time.

"Your bra."

He nodded at her to continue undressing, and she fell in line.

She heard an intake of air as she exposed her breasts to him and smiled. Then she remembered her hickey and her forehead knit in consternation.

_Sure. A hickey from another man. Something every guy wants to see the first time he fools around with a woman he likes._

Dick brushed his fingers over the bruise gently with a vexed expression on his face, then lowered his head and kissed the area of marred skin.

"You should never wear clothes." He murmured into her chest and traced the outline of her puckering nipples with his tongue. She drew in a sharp breath and held it. "Relax, Mackie. I don't bite."

He proceeded to nip lightly at the peaks of both breasts, and she moaned at the sensation.

_Why does he pick now to have principles?_

"You are a beautiful liar." She exhaled, releasing all of her inhibitions with the puff of air. His hair still smelled like the ocean from that morning's surf, and if she closed her eyes, she could almost feel the sand in-between her toes.

"Pretty much." Dick leisurely kissed his way up the column of her neck, stopping several times along the way to give her pulse points some extra attention, before working his way up to her lips. "I can't wait to taste you."

She might've come right then, if she weren't so surprised by his directness. "Good."

The response escaped her lips before she could sensor it, and Dick laughed. "Somebody's eager."

_What has gotten into me?_

Pulling her pants down, along with her underwear, Dick flung them both through the air so hard they smacked the back wall and fell into a heap on the floor. "Now that that's out of the way..."

Mac swallowed hard and tried to keep her pulse from racing. At the rate she was getting worked up, she was bound to come the moment he touched her there.

_That wouldn't be embarrassing. Not at all._

His hands caressed the outside of her thighs as he took in the view. "Remember when I said I was gonna crack your nut?"

_That old threat? It's kind of my prime masturbation material._

"Uh..." Mac chest was heaving with anticipation. "Oh yeah."

_Oh yeah._

"Prepare to get crushed." He parted her legs at the knees and rested them on his shoulders.

_Shit. This is happening. Do I really want this to happen?_

_YES._

He grabbed her left ankle and let his lips drift over her skin, down the inside of her leg until he reached her thigh. He licked slowly, covering a wide swath as his tongue carved a path around her bikini line, barely grazing the center as he passed from one side of her to the other.

Mac's breathing became insistent at the torture. "Just remember, Dick. One day you're going to want me to return the favor..."

Hot breath tickled her core as he chuckled into her skin, but he continued teasing, earning a frustrated whimper.

Her hips bucked up against his mouth but he pulled away laughing. "Somebody's a control freak..." he said in sotto voice.

"Not a control freak." She grabbed his face between her palms. "You have carte blanche. You can call the shots Dick. Do whatever you want, just do it quickly."

He looked pleased with himself, then pulled her closer to the edge of the bed and got on his knees. "If you insist..."

"I do. I do insist," she said between hiccups of air as he pressed between her thighs and plunged his warm tongue into her as far as it could go.

_Holy shit!_

Mac gasped and her thighs tightened against the sides of Dick's head. As with everything, Dick attacked this task with enthusiasm.

She knew he'd been with women. The entire female population of Neptune had been picked over by him at some point or another, but for whatever reason, she still wasn't expecting him to bring this level of skill to the table.

She'd never seen him exhibit this kind of focus on anything in her life, not even the various European holiday theme parties he loved to throw. The sheer amount of passion he was pouring into his efforts humbled her.

He sucked in and out, alternating in a fast rhythm, then began thrust his tongue into her, over and over again as his fingers found their way to her 'pleasure dome' and pinched hard, sending shock waves throughout her body. She was on the knife's edge. One more push and she'd be gone. "Oh God! Don't stop, Dick. Don't stop."

She was close.

So close.

There was a hint of a smile in those mischievous eyes that she'd grown to adore, as well as a look of determination. Dick wanted to make this good for her. This was what he looked like when he was giving the best of himself.

_Fuck._

Mac's fingers and toes curled the moment she fell over the cliff and she cried out louder than she'd ever done before.

Dick lifted his head and watched her come down from her orgasm with a look of self-satisfaction. It was a job well done, and he was proud of his work.

_As he should be._

She'd had orgasms before. Great ones. But something about being with Dick allowed her to let herself go in a way she'd never done before.

That was the moment she realized she actually trusted him.

"I'd ask you how that was for you, but since your legs are still shaking, I'm just gonna assume it was the best you've ever had." He licked his lips and swiped the back of his hand against his mouth, before lowering her legs to the bed.

Mac was panting too hard to speak right away. She wanted to say something snarky - something to wipe that smug grin off of his face - but she couldn't help but share his sentiment. "You're such a cocky bastard. You know that, right?"

"Hmm. What I do know, is that you get this little quiver in your lip, right before you're about to come..." He stroked her bottom lip with his finger. "It's totally cute."

_I give up. Let the dog have his day. He deserves it._

Mac locked her ankles around his waist and pulled him closer. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him so hard that it shocked them both.

Then she laughed.

Not because of anything he did or didn't do, just because the whole situation was so absurd. If somebody had told her ten years ago that she's be calling out Dick Casablancas' name while tearing the sheets from the corners of her bed, she would have shown them the door.

"A whole week, eh?" Six more days suddenly seemed like an eternity to her.

Dick pulled her closer. "I'm a businessman, Mac. I'm always open to negotiations."

* * *

"6-ball, corner pocket," Weevil tapped the tip of his cue on the edge of the table, leaving a chalk mark in its wake. He rested the stick on the knife's edge of his index finger, lined it up with the cue ball and took his best shot. The ball rolled slowly toward the lip of the pocket and then stopped short. "Fuck!"

Molly laughed hard, then tapped her cue on a side pocket. She'd barely aimed the stick when she took her shot and sank the 8-ball in one swift move. "Owned."

_First Vee whips my ass playing poker and now this? Maybe it's time to brush up my skills?_

Weevil shrugged half-heartedly with an embarrassed smile. "Yeah well, not all of us works next to one of these babies every day." He slapped the biaze of the table, rubbing a circle over the spot he had covertly taken a fiber sample from the other day. "Say...didn't there used to be more of these in the front room?"

"If you came by here sometime in the last few years, maybe you'd know." Molly began racking the balls in the plastic triangle.

The blue #2 ball escaped her grasp and rolled to the other side of the table and ricocheted. As it made its way back over, she leaned over to snatch it up. Weevil fought to look up the rising hem of her skirt, but gave up the battle pretty quickly.

Phase one of this gig would be easier than he thought. A night or two in the sack with Molly Fitzpatrick was not exactly a sacrifice, no matter how much he bitched to his partner about her request. "My invite must've gotten lost in the mail."

"As if you've ever waited for an invitation to go anywhere." She piled her hair onto the top of her head and secured it with a few hair pins snapped to the waist of her apron.

Her neck was long, graceful even. He hadn't noticed before, since he was always too busy looking at her ass.

_Shit. Now I even think her neck is hot? Get it together, vato. _

Molly ran her fingertips along the edge of the table as she made her way over to him. "Anyway, let's just say Uncle Liam and I have a different vision for this joint."

"What? You don't want a bunch of strung out lowlife's hanging around you all day?" She extended her arm and he handed her his pool cue.

"Guess I just attract a bad element?" She cracked a smile and turned toward the back wall. There was a little something extra going on in her hips that he'd hoped was for his benefit.

He watched her ass without a break the entire way, and he couldn't even make himself feel bad about it.

_That. Ass._

Molly leaned forward and pressed the sticks into the wall holster. "Anyway, the sheriff took care of most of the lowlifes for me."

"You talking about Van Lowe?" Weevil leaned casually against the wall and nursed his beer.

Her mood changed with the mention of the former sheriff's name. "Fuck Vinnie Van Lowe. The only thing he ever did to clean this town up was call OSHA on all the titty bars, and I think he only did it because he was sick of drinking out of dirty glasses."

"Sounds like you're not a fan?"

She shrugged, and positioned herself against the opposite wall, with her glass in hand. "The only way Van Lowe was gonna send Uncle Liam up the river was if somebody else was driving the boat. Keith Mars ain't my favorite person in the world, but I'm grateful to him for putting that sick fuck into prison. Somebody had to."

_Girl knows how to hold a grudge._

Weevil's eyes widened at the admission. "You won't get any arguments outta me. Your uncle and me? Not exactly poker buddies."

She laughed. "Yeah, I'll bet."

"Didn't realize Liam was persona non grata around these parts." Weevil tipped the beer back and let the last of the suds slip down his throat. "Maybe I woulda come by sooner if I'd known."

"You think I'd actually forgive him? After what he did?" Her face clouded over with a look of menace. "I'd take care of it myself if he weren't already in jail."

_Take care of it? Slow down, Don Corleone?_

"The only way a guy like Liam gets taken care of _is _in prison."

Molly seemed lost in thought as she drifted across the room in his direction. "What do you mean by that?"

"You know, bad shit goes down all the time on the inside and people look the other way. Especially if they're paid enough to."

She seemed to contemplate what he was saying for a moment, but then laughed self-consciously. "Killing Liam...that's not an assassination attempt a person wants to fuck up. As long as he still had a pulse, he'd come after the person, and God help them."

Weevil wondered if Liam had screwed Molly over in some other way, beyond what he did to Felix. He'd been dead nearly a decade and her anger sounded too fresh.

_What did that piece of shit do to you?_

Molly's focus was momentarily distracted by something beyond Weevil's head.

When he turned, he found the redheaded waitress flagging her down. "Cillian won't pay his bill again and he's refusing to leave."

She released an exasperated groan and placed her beer on the edge of the table. "That's his third strike."

"Yeah well, he also grabbed my ass." The redhead made a sour face. "And he's a shitty tipper. I don't know why you put up with some of these assholes. It's not like you have anybody to answer to now."

Molly waved her off.

"I'll take care of it." She grabbed one of the pool cues she'd just replaced from the wall and stormed toward the other room, stopping only to give Weevil a brief look of apology.

_Damn. She ain't playin'._

His eyes followed her into next room, but he remained in the doorway. If things got ugly, he'd be better off seeing the big picture before jumping in.

Weevil recognized the troublemaker as the racist who lunged past him in the doorway on his way inside.

"You can't get rid of me! I fucking live here!" Cillian shouted obscenities at the top of his lungs, spilling the contents of his beer all over himself and the floor with his animated hand gestures.

"Consider yourself evicted." Molly dropped the edge of the cue down on the table in front of her unwanted guest with a loud whack. "If you leave now, I'll even let you take your balls with you." She edged her head toward the pool room and then down at the man's crotch. "Both sets."

He blanched at her threat. "Fuck you! I'm still finishing my drink."

She lifted the pool cue high in the air and swung it like a bat, easily knocking the man's glass of beer out of his hand and onto the floor in an explosion of glass. "Not anymore. Now get the fuck out of here before I go for your nuts next."

Cillian rose onto his unsteady legs, with both fists balled in anger. "If your daddy were here, he'd take you over his knee for talking to a regular like this."

Weevil heard a loud creaking sound come from behind him and he turned his head.

Nothing there.

_What the hell was that? _

With a face flushed from ire and a haughty scowl at her lips, Molly took a step in the drunkard's direction. "Yeah? Well, in case you're blind, my daddy's dead. He's been gone for about six years now, so either get used to the new rules or get lost. This is my bar now."

_Shit. Roadhouse Barbie ain't afraid to tell them what's what._

"Any place is better than this shithole!" Cillian slurred, as one of the other regular's approached the older man to help him out of the bar.

"Good. Don't let the door hit you on the ass on the way out." Molly rested the cue on her shoulder and turned toward the back room, where Weevil was waiting for her. "On second thought...do."

She'd barely taken five steps when Cillian broke free from of his helper's hands and lunged at Molly's neck from behind.

_Motherfucker!_

Weevil's heart thumped out of his chest as he took triple strides toward Molly to beat down the assaulter. The guy was in his 60's, but Weevil knew better than anyone that booze had an uncanny way of making a weak man strong.

The pool cue dropped to the floor as Molly's hands grappled with the Cillian's, desperately trying to peel his iron-like fingers away from her neck. Her face turned a bright shade of pink and Weevil could hear her gasping as her air supply was being closed off.

A gaggle of crusty truck stop matrons cackled loudly, blocking his way, oblivious to the disruption taking place mere feet from where they gathered.

_Are these people fucking deaf or just animals? How can everybody just stand there like this shit is business as usual?_

Weevil tried to jostling them from their positions, but they were too drunk to respond to his prompts, so he had no choice but to go the long way. He yanked a man up by his collar and hauled him out of his chair, then slid over the table top and careening gracelessly into the pile of glass below.

_Glad I decided to take the hog._

He wasn't too cut up, beyond his hands. Leather jeans protected a guy from more than road rash.

Grabbing the nearest beer mug he could get his hands on, Weevil smacked the side of the man's head with it, knocking him out in one swift move. Cillian's hands slid from where they'd been choking Molly, and he fell unconscious into a puddle of glass shards mixed with his own beer.

Molly dropped to her knees and grabbed her own throat, as wet coughs racked her chest.

_This is messed up. He coulda killed her and nobody lifted a damned finger._

"I'm calling the police!" the redhead screeched as she ran behind the bar.

Several of the patrons filed quickly out of the bar at her announcement.

Weevil placed a soft hand on Molly's shaking frame. "You okay?"

She was bent as the waist, and supporting her body weight on her knees as the hacking continued.

"Hey, let's go sit down." He grabbed her around the waist with one arm and forced one of hers around his neck, then carried her into the back room.

After depositing her in a chair, he grabbed the beer she'd left on the table and tipped the glass to her lips, while kneeling at her feet. "Oooh, you got a mouth on you, Molly Fitzpatrick. And you got a pair of cojones to match. I sure as hell wouldn't want to get on your bad side."

_But I sure do like watching other people make that mistake._

It was then that Weevil realized he almost definitely would get on her bad side if she had any idea what he was up to. A sinking feeling invaded his gut.

She swallowed the amber liquid and sputtered a few more coughs before a smile overtook her reddened face and she spoke in broken, breathy spurts. "Never...forget...it."

He placed the pint glass in her waiting palm and raised his own hands in surrender. "Like I could forget the sight of you playin' Mickey Mantle with that asshole's beer glass. I'll bet you nobody fucks with you again for at least a week."

"Yeah, that was kind of the idea," she said between pants and then finished off her beer. "You rescued me twice in one night, Eli. Didn't figure you for the hero type." She placed the empty glass by her feet and looked with bemusement at his hand on her knee. " Or me for being so easily distracted."

_You think you're distracted?_

He was so caught up in phase one, that he'd completely forgotten about phase two. Getting into her bed wouldn't be that tough. Getting out? That was a whole other story.

A heavy wave of guilt washed over him, threatening to drag him under in its rip tide, but he managed to escaped its pull.

_She's just a job. _

Molly's smile lit up further, arousing a strange twinge within his chest that he hadn't experienced in years. When she smiled, she was beautiful in ways that he hadn't noticed before, ways that defied logic.

Her face was softer, and she seemed younger to him, somehow. Her eyes, which always had a sadness lurking behind them appeared less jaded than before.

Those eyes locked onto his and his whole body tensed.

_Shit. _

When Molly looked at him the way she was looking at him now, he almost found himself forgetting who she really was. Who he really was.

At that moment, Weevil didn't care that none of it was real. He didn't give a shit that the game he was playing could turn dangerous at any point in time. It was getting harder and harder for him to separate fact from fiction.

_Sometimes, I wish Vee had just stayed gone._

Golden strands tumbled into Molly's eyes and before he knew he was doing it, Weevil reached out and swept them from her face, tucking them behind one ear. "Come on. Anybody decent would have done the same."

_Not in this joint though._

His eyes toured the finger-shaped bruises framing her neck like a multi-strand choker and he swallowed the bile rising in his throat.

_I'm not done with that old Mick. Not by a mile._

Molly's face stilled and she looked pensive, though her gaze never left his. "Except they didn't. Only you did."

_What are you waiting for, man? She wants it. You can smell it all over her. Seal the deal!_

Just as he was about to speak, Molly's eyes dropped to the ground and he lost his nerve.

The deep creaking sound resurfaced again.

_Okay, I definitely heard that._

Her head lifted at the noise.

_Looks like she did, too._

He waited for her to comment on it, but nothing was said.

"You got Casper living in your attic?" He pointed in the direction of the noise.

"Rats." Molly kneaded the edges of her chair with her hands, then took a deep breath and plastered on a smile that looked as phony as a Chinatown knockoff. "You wanna get out of here? I could use some air."

_I'll bet._

She was definitely hiding something. Of that, he was positive. Looks like he would just have to squeeze her for more information.

_I'll squeeze her for information, all right..._

Molly rose from her chair and headed for the back door, stopping only to drop her chin over her right shoulder. "You coming or what?"

* * *

The usually bright eyes of Connor Larkin had a dull sheen to them, as a scantily-dressed blonde plunged a hypodermic needle deep between his toes. He had been caught off guard. Some one probably called out his name to get him to look up at just the right moment. And it was the perfect moment.

Veronica frowned as she zeroed in on the woman in question. Her hair was dropped like a scrim, blocking her features, but if these pictures were taken at The River Stix, as she suspected, she could really only be one person.

The Fitzpatricks had long been put away by the time these photos were shot, which meant they were either snapped right under Molly's nose, she'd turned a blind eye or she'd orchestrated the whole thing herself. There was no fourth option.

_Looks like baby's all grown up now, pulling her own jobs and everything. Nothing like learning at the master's knee._

_I hope Weevil has his antennae up._

Logan pushed through the bedroom door, looking like he'd just gone four rounds with Mike Tyson.

Veronica quickly closed out of the photo app on her iPad. "Is she finally down?"

"Don't know about her, but I sure as hell am." He collapsed backward onto the mattress, the force of which nearly bounced Veronica on to the floor. "Shit. Sorry Ronnie."

"Don't mind me, I'm only pregnant," she grumbled.

He reached out to pull her back up and she flinched at the movement. "I'm sorry. Is your back okay? Do you need anything?"

"Not unless they've suddenly approved morphine for use during pregnancy." Her fingers pressed the bandage lightly to make sure it was still in place, prompting a wince. She shifted a few more inches from the edge, then relaxed into the pillow and closed her eyes. "It's okay, it was an accident. I know if you really wanted to hurt me, you'd hide the ice cream."

The events of the day wore Veronica out. Coming home to the scene in the kitchen was the last straw. Whatever Logan was hiding would have to just wait until morning, because the only person she felt like tangling with right now was The Sandman.

_Even superheroes need sleep._

Logan turned onto his stomach and crawled toward her, until he was close enough to lay his head on her lap.

Veronica's hands instinctively found his hair and combed through it, scratching his scalp with her fingertips in a lazy pattern.

_How can he relax like this when some psychopath is stalking him? In our home._

_Stop it! You're supposed to be relaxing, too._

"If I said this felt better than sex, would you say I've gone soft?" Logan nuzzled her belly.

She laughed. "You could never be soft, Logan. Not while I'm around."

"That's true." He peeked at her through one eye. "Despite the whole stabbing incident, and your father nearly killing me in the hallway of his house this evening, it wasn't a bad day."

_I wonder if you'd feel the same if you knew about the love note you received._

"You're only saying that because you got laid."

Logan shook his head and let both eyes flutter open. "I'm saying that because I realized today that I finally have everything I ever wanted." He chuckled nervously, a tic she noticed always seemed to spring up when he let himself feel too vulnerable around her. "Cue: tsunami or other natural disaster."

_Shouldn't that be 'Cue: stalker'?_

Veronica snorted. "There you go again, with that Logan Echolls optimism. Sometimes, the glass really is half full."

_Why won't he ever let himself believe we can stay happy? I guess I don't, so why should he?_

"...says the woman who spills out half her glass, just so she can beat the gods to it." Logan reached up and took a lock of her hair between his fingers. She watched him brush the ends back and forth over the top of his hand.

He looked so young to her when he opened himself up like this. A lot like the boy she used to know, who still had a bit of earnest hope buried beneath his sarcastic veneer. The boy who would wake up early, just to make a pot of coffee for his mother when she got back from the set after a long night shoot. He would have done anything to spend time with her sober.

She leaned down and pressed a soft kiss on to his mouth. "Two half empty glasses _do _make a full glass, though. We should probably tell ourselves that occasionally."

_I sound like Dr. Phil. Please tell me it's the hormones and that this isn't permanent._

"Probably." He continued playing with her hair mindlessly.

She marveled at his ability to diffuse his anxiety. Compartmentalizing it, she could understand. She'd done that nearly her entire life, to varying degrees of success. But diluting it into a low-grade panic that would constantly reside at the pit of her stomach like a bad Thanksgiving Dinner? Hell no.

There's no way he'd ever have one moment of true happiness that way...but her way wasn't any more successful. Living with the boogeyman hovering just beyond her shadow, even when she chooses to ignore it, was not exactly the pain-free alternative.

_Speaking of the boogeyman...is he ever going to tell me about his stalker? Does he honestly think he can hide this from me?_

"I wonder what it's like for other people," she mused, changing the pattern she was scratching on his scalp.

"Normal people?" The words were said thick with disgust, as if being 'normal' were a crime. "We don't know any of those."

Veronica frowned. Was he right? "Wallace. Wallace is normal."

_At least there's one._

Logan laughed hard at her suggestion. "He's willingly friends with us. That doesn't say much about his character."

"Ever the cynic." She hated having to play the positive one. That was supposed to be his job. "Just so we're clear, today I'm Mulder and you're Scully?"

"Nope." He stretched his long arms out over his head and yawned. "We're both Scully. There is no point to our counterpoint."

"That sounds like a healthy environment to bring a child into." Veronica gazed through the glass walls out onto the rough water below. She watched it slam up against the rocks with each pull of the tide. From a distance it was hypnotic and calming, but if she put one leg into the current, she knew her life would be over in a flash.

_Our kid hasn't got a chance in hell of an innocent childhood. We have no idea what we're doing. We need help._

"You, um-." She cleared her throat a few times with apprehension. This was not in her comfort zone, which was precisely why she had to do it.

_Just spit it out!_

"I promised you that we'd go to therapy together."

Logan raised an eyebrow. "You want to go to therapy?"

_Not remotely, but I know we can't keep doing what we're doing. Not if we want to make it as a family. _

Her eyes remained fixed on the window. "I promised you I would." She tried to keep her face free from expressions of any kind, lest he think he'd done anything to prompt this request. They were both equally rudderless when it came to their emotions.

His entire face came alive with curiosity. "Let me try that again with the correct emphasis. _You _want to go to therapy?"

"Do you – do you think we need to?"

_Please say yes._

He contemplated the question. "I'm the fucked up kid of two Hollywood megastars who were hardly ever home. My dad beat me on the regular and killed my girlfriend. My mom drank like a water fowl and threw herself off a bridge. If I don't need therapy, Bobcat, nobody does." A smirk crossed his face and he started to sit up. "In fact, I'm probably late for a session now..."

She pulled him back down onto her lap by his shoulders. "I meant with me."

His face paled at her response, and he slowly rolled to sit up. "You really want to do this? Couples therapy?"

_You're the one who suggested it in the first place!_

Veronica's eyes shifted toward the door of the room unconsciously, but he caught the action right away and recoiled from the implication.

"Don't let me stop you," he said tightly, gesturing to the door. "I know how pesky long goodbyes can be."

She felt like she'd been slapped.

_He still has no faith in me. Maybe he never will?_

Veronica hadn't planned on leaving, but when his last dig stuck its landing, she briefly considered it. His vitriol almost always made running seem like a tempting option. Part of her wondered if he pulled this kind of shit just to test her.

_It's the anger talking, Veronica. It's what he does. Calm down. Don't react._

"Are you finished?" She leveled her steely eyes at him.

Logan's anger broke, along with his confidence. "Are you?"

He was referring to something entirely different, and the uncertainty in his voice nearly killed her. She didn't want to make him suffer or put him on egg shells at every bump that crossed their path. What was she doing wrong?

Veronica swallowed the acid rising in her throat and wrapped her arms around him, drawing him tightly to her chest. "I love you. Nothing will ever change that. You know that, right?"

He let out a shuddering breath and returned her embrace. "Even if I do something horrible?"

_I've seen your horrible. Can't say it was a picnic, but I lived through it._

"There's nothing," she mumbled into his shoulder. Logan pulled her onto his lap, cradling her to his chest.

He tittered with relief and took another breath. "Even if I lie to you about something really important?"

_I know you're lying to me right now, and I'm still here._

She held back the strong desire to make a quip.

"I won't leave you."

_Like I did after Felix. Like I did after Madison._

She shook her head. He needed to hear it, and she would keep saying it as long as he wanted her to.

He kissed her long and hard, and it wasn't until a minute into it, that it hit her. "You don't believe me."

Logan urgently covered her mouth again with his own and guided her back to the mattress. She slid out from under his grasp.

"I'm trying here, Logan," she said with a wavering voice. "I'm trying. I thought this was what you wanted?"

They stared at one another in silence.

"I'll go to therapy." He sat in the middle of the bed, the picture of dejection, fear and shame oozing out of every pore. His fingers twisted in his own hair as he tried to form the right thing to say. "I'll go. Just...just don't leave me, okay?"

_I have to do something about this. I'll do anything to make him see._

Veronica's feet dropped to the floor and she rose to stand, her muscles shaking with the effort.

"Veronica?" Logan's voice broke. He watched helplessly as she crossed the room with determination, circling back around to his side of the bed.

She stood at his night stand for a full minute, staring a hole in it, trying to work up the nerve to do what she should have done days ago.

Logan said nothing. He simply watched and waited for his future to unfold.

_You can do this. It's not a big deal. You have to do whatever it takes. For him. For the baby._

Her hand quivered as she rested it on the handle of the drawer. It was like jumping without a parachute, exhilarating and terrifying all at once. She pulled the drawer open and retrieved the small, black box that he'd placed next to his grandfather's lighter and a first edition print of 'The Maltese Falcon'.

When Logan saw what Veronica had in her hands, his jaw dropped.

She opened the box and admired the contents.

_It's beautiful. Of course it is. Like he'd be capable of picking out something ugly. He has better taste than most women._

Without a word, she slipped the ring on the forth finger of her left hand and carefully placed the closed box back into the drawer before shutting it. "I'm not leaving you. Ever. Okay?"

Logan grinned stupidly and wiped the back of his hand against his nose. "Okay. I believe you, Ronnie."

* * *

**A/N2: Well?**

**- Okay, I could not squeeze Duncan in this chapter, but 32 pages was really my limit. I promise you'll see him in the next one and things are only getting harrier in the clink. **

**- Dick is about to get himself involved in the Wiedman mess, much to Mac's dismay. Who do you think drugged Mac? Petrenko? Wiedman? Door #3?**

**- Are you into Weevil and Molly yet? I'm shipping them hard, I can't help it. Hopefully, you'll dig where this is going. Hey, what's that creaking sound...**

**- The ring is on, but Veronica is nowhere near ready to get married. Not until they can both stop lying to each other.**

**PS – endless affection goes out to the best beta money can't buy, silverlining2k6. Thanks for talking me through the embarrassment of writing the 'Downtown Abbey' scene.**

**PPS – If you have the time, you know I'm dying to hear your thoughts! Please review :)**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N - Hey guys! Thanks to those who left reviews, especially the guests whom I can't respond to personally. The action is going to pick up majorly now, starting with this chapter - new mysteries will be introduced (or are they Red Herrings?) that may/not lead to the one big baddie that will tie everything together. It starts now - and the next chapter will get a little crazy.**

**Also, this chapter is pretty dirty, in almost every scene. I really didn't intend for it to be like that, but I guess I'm feeling a little randy :)**

**Needless to say, this one is rated M.**

* * *

Previously: Veronica discovered the latest present from Logan's stalker. She distracted him and texted her dad to collect the evidence while they slept, choosing to keep things a secret from him. Mac lost a pen drive that CW gave to her the night of her date with Petrenko. She told Dick how CW enlisted her to be a double agent in exchange for getting her out of the Petrenko situation (and for protecting him, though she doesn't mention that). Mac wondered if CW had something to do with drugging her, since he was the one who had the waiter bring her the drink. Dick and Mac finally fooled around and he made the decision to get to the bottom of the CW thing, whether Mac wanted him to or not. Weevil hung out with Molly at her bar and saved her from a violent attack from one of her drunk regulars. While at the bar, he heard a strange noise comig from the attic. Worried about being able to provide a healthy family environment for the baby amongst all of the lying, Veronica suggested to Logan she wanted to go to therapy. He freaked out and thought she was insinuating she was unhappy. In order to prove her commitment to their relationship and out his mind at ease, she out on the engagement ring he tried to give her earlier.

* * *

**CHAPTER 14**

As was routine by now, Duncan slipped his hands through the slot in the door and waited for the guard to unfasten his cuffs.

"So, you're the rich guy, eh?"

He bristled at the conversation he knew was about to start. "Unless Bill Gates suddenly checked into the next cell, then yeah."

"Duncan Kane, right? This must be a change of pace for somebody like you." A sliver of vindication tinged the edges of his voice.

_Somebody like me? Somebody whose sister was murdered? Someone who went on the run to Cuba to avoid arrest for a crime he didn't commit, only to skip town less than a year later to escape prosecution for a crime he had no choice but to commit? Yeah. Total change of pace._

It was annoying to be so misjudged, but it had been that way for most of his life. People thought the rich had it easy. They assumed every day involved strolls by the beach, Badminton practice and sipping afternoon tea from solid gold cups.

_If they only fucking knew._

The guard clearly thought Duncan had been nabbed for a white collar crime. Most likely, he assumed he had been caught stealing from the rich, like Big Dick Casablancas, his hand in the cookie jar. Or even worse, perhaps he thought Duncan took advantage of the poor somehow, making his money off of the backs of those less fortunate. Either way, by the look in his eyes, it was obvious the man seemed satisfied that justice was being served.

"Well, considering I've been living in a series of one-room apartments with my daughter for the past seven years, I can't say this is much different...other than the décor, the much less adorable roommate and of course, the handcuffs." Duncan rubbed his wrist as each shackle came off.

"Everybody said you were loaded." The guard, a burly Caucasian man in his early 30's, peered through the window of the cell door with confusion. "What are you in for, anyway? None of the other guards seem to know anything. We've got a pool going."

"What did you put money on?"

"Corporate embezzlement." The man seemed pretty confident in his guess.

Duncan nodded aimlessly. "If I were a white collar criminal, would I be holed up in this joint?"

The man's expression fell. "Nah. You'd probably be sipping Mai Tai's over at County North. They have a view of the water and everything."

He didn't feel the need to point out he'd been offered that option but turned it down because of distance.

"So, what happened then? You kill your wife in a jealous rage or something?"

His head rotated back and forth slowly. "Kidnapping."

The guard winced at the admission and a disgusted scowl soon appeared.

_Crap. Now he thinks I'm a pervert. Wait – will that assumption help me or hurt me? Hurt. Definitely. They like to kill pedophiles in prison._

"No – no, not _that_ kind of kidnapping." Duncan tittered nervously, and ran a hand through his hair. "I took my daughter. Her mother, Meg, died right after childbirth. I was still 17 at the time, and her parents planned to do all they could to keep me from my kid. They were seriously abusive. Meg begged me to do what I had to do to get our daughter away from them before she died. So I did."

The guard's expression changed again, this time to one of admiration. "They put you in jail for protecting your own kid?"

"Yeah."

"Sounds like Neptune." With a head shake, the jailor reached into his back pocket and pulled out a well-worn, paperback book. "I've got something for you." He slid it through the hole in the door and it landed on the cement floor with a slap.

Duncan squatted down and lifted the book up to read the cover. "'The Count of Monte Cristo'?"

_I would not have figured a prison guard for having an ironic sense of humor._

"It's not from me." He held his hands aloft. "You've got some friends in high places. Some hot friends."

Duncan flipped open the cover and his eyes fell immediately to the inscription penned on the title page.

_Dear Duncan,_

_According to Dumas, "All human wisdom is contained in these two words-'Wait and Hope'." _

_You've got the time, and I can help you with the rest._

_Hang in there._

_-Carmen_

He brought his hand over his mouth and leaned into it as he read the message once more, this time allowing the words to really sink in.

"Is she who you got waiting for you on the outside?" The guard waggled his eyebrows suggestively. "You like a little spice with your meat?"

_I wish._

The cover of the book slammed shut and Duncan tossed it onto his bed. "It's not like that."

_Unfortunately._

"You sure about that? I ain't never seen no ADA come up here in person before. They usually like to avoid hanging out with the people they put away."

"She's the AADA," he corrected.

"Same difference, man. Anyway, she's a tamale."

Duncan smirked. What was the point of behaving like a gentleman in a building filled with animals? He'd have to adapt quickly if he wanted to survive. "Yep. Girl's got an ass that could stop a clock."

_I seriously cannot believe that just came out of my mouth. Celeste would have a heart attack if she ever heard me speak like this._

The guard chuckled to himself as he left. "You're alright, Kane. You need something, just ask for Johnson."

"Thanks, man," he called out after his new acquaintance.

He hadn't even been in the 'big house' for 24 hours, and already Duncan was itching for a parole hearing. Carmen said he should _'Wait and Hope'_? He had no choice but to do the former, and the later...he wasn't exactly built that way.

Duncan was raised in a strategic family. His parents were never comfortable leaving much of anything up to chance. 'Hope' was something people without brains and talent did. What was expected of him, was 'hard work' and 'perseverance'. The skill and intelligence were always a given. He was a Kane, after all.

Climbing onto his cot, he rubbed the bruise rapidly forming just under his eye as he leaned his back against the wall.

_Lilly...Lilly...Lilly..._

He would get through this for her.

Hard work and perseverance were things he did well, things that came naturally to him. He'd prepared hard and methodically for this experience and he would ride on that effort to the end. But hope? That was for people who allowed for the possibility of failure. Kanes never failed.

He lifted the Dumas book from the spot on the blanket where it had landed and read Carmen's words again and again, trying desperately to memorize them. She would give him hope? He liked the idea of that. Maybe if he tried hard enough, he could even make himself believe it.

He placed the book next to his thigh and closed his eyes, then slipped his hand inside of the waistband of his orange prison scrubs and thought of her. Carmen's kind eyes...her full lips, just begging to be claimed by his own...her round breasts swelling with desire, her nipples pricking through the thin material of her cashmere sweater in the chill of the courthouse...

His hand worked hard and fast, and with each stroke, he felt the edges of the book digging into his leg. Through his fertile imagination, they weren't pages, but her pale pink nails.

_Oh fuck!_

Duncan came quickly all over his hand and searched the cell for something to clean himself off with. He grabbed for a hand towel on the shelf above his bed, accidentally knocking it into the space between the head of his mattress and the wall.

With his clean hand, he tossed his pillow to the other side of the bed. He grabbed the towel and as he was wiping his hand off, he noticed a sharp object that had been carefully placed beneath his pillow, with a makeshift bow tied around it and everything.

_Who the hell would have given me a shiv? Hector?_

Duncan grabbed the shiv, carved from what was likely an arm from one of the white, polycarbonate chairs from the mess hall, and let the weight of it settle in his hand. Would he really need something like this to protect himself? A sick feeling filled his gut and he quickly placed the shiv back where he found it and replaced his pillow over it to keep it hidden.

_Hope isn't going to do me much good in a fight._

Better safe than sorry.

* * *

At night, the Coronado Bridge didn't see much action. It was quiet, as most toll passages through Neptune were when traffic was light. Weevil made it to the spot in less than fifteen minutes, even though he'd taken the long way to make his time with Molly last.

The bike ride over there had been intense. Neither of them said a word, but like a police interrogation, sometimes it was the things that didn't get said that mattered the most.

Molly was practically born on the back of a bike. With her long arms draped casually around Weevil's waist, the skirt of her dress hitched up around her hips, and her cowboy boots propped up on the bike's foot pegs like she was watching T.V., he had to work harder than he usually did to get her body pressed up against his.

Using some of the more dangerous curves to his advantage, Weevil took several hairpin turns at top speed, and to his delight, she grabbed on tighter, snaking her hands up the front of his chest until both of them covered his heart.

He was finally where he wanted to be, a snug fit between taut thighs. The weather was breezy even for December, but he barely noticed, surrounded by her heat. He imagined how good it might feel to be buried in her heat in other ways.

_Damn, she's hot._

He was angry about it. Pissed even. She wasn't supposed to be turning him on like she was. What right did she have making him wonder what she looked like under that dress, when he was the one who was supposed to be seducing her?

Veronica didn't believe the Fitzpatricks had stopped their illegal activity. She felt they had to be operating from prison, because who else would send two junkies to knife her in a bus station in the middle of the afternoon? She had a point. He couldn't see a bunch of addicts pulling off a pipe bomb though.

_Those cracked out Micks would probably try to smoke a rock off of it first and end up blowing their own faces off. No way did they set up a car bomb._

And then there was the picture Vee said proved Molly was involved in her mystery celebrity's blackmail case. She had texted the photo earlier with the client's face blocked out, but he knew. He could tell it was Molly instantly. Sure, her face was covered, but he'd recognize that ass anywhere. Blackmail was right up Liam's alley. Maybe his niece inherited some of his grifting chops.

By the time they'd gotten close to the bridge, Molly's grip on him had tightened. She knew where they were going and why they were going there. She hadn't asked to go, but she hadn't said 'no' to him either. That was as good as a yes as far as he was concerned.

Molly leapt from the bike before it had even stopped, and stepped up onto the first rung of the guard railing. She pressed her pelvis against the upper rebar, gripping the metal with white knuckles, and tipped halfway over the edge to watch the dark water swirling below.

Like a ship to a homing beacon, Weevil's eyes watched the hem of her dress rise up to the edge of paradise.

_That's right, mama. A little further..._

"The Santa Anas are kicking up again. Make sure you've got a good hold on the side rail, Molly."

As Molly turned to face Weevil, her hair whipped around her face like spun gold and he felt a pang of deja vu. She wasn't the first ball-busting blonde he'd brought up to the bridge.

_Lilly always liked to climb too. Girl liked to do a lot of things up on this bridge._

The sound of Molly's voice floated down and shook him from his thoughts. "It's not my first time here, you know. I used to come up here all the time the first few months after Felix was killed." She turned her head back to the ocean. "I knew he wasn't still up here or anything, but I don't know...it just felt like the right place to be."

He hadn't realized she'd mourned him like that. Like he had.

_Fucking Fitzpatricks._

He approached her from behind and let the pads of his fingers rest lightly on Molly's hips to hold her steady. She was shaken for a moment, but let it continue without comment.

_How the hell is she walking around in a dress that short in this weather?_

He took his leather jacket off and forced her arms into it, one by one.

"Thanks."

A burst of wind nearly knocked her off balance, and Weevil tightened his grip. "Maybe you wanna come down from there now? It's getting kind of dicey out here."

"Such a long way down. It's hard to believe Lynn Echolls jumped off of here by choice. Do you think it hurt a lot?" She loosened her fingers and held her arms aloft, weaving her hands like children's paper planes, gliding through the rough air while barely traveling forward.

_Only about as much as getting hit by a 2' x 4' at top speed. Why is she asking me this anyway? She's not thinking of jumping?_

His stomach tingled with nerves. He wasn't sure what the hell was going on, but fucking around near a 600 foot drop off was not the sign of a happy individual. "I don't know. Yeah, I guess it would if you were still conscious by the time you hit the water. You'd only feel it for a minute though."

_Why did I just tell her that? Now she probably thinks it's like getting your ear pierced._

"Do you think it was the fall that killed her or the water?"

Was she thinking of doing something drastic? His fingers tightened so hard she squirmed under them. "Dead is dead. Does it matter?"

"Guess not." Her eyes closed, and a ghost of a smile haunted her lips. "Must be nice though – those few seconds you're in the air before you hit – to know you're totally and completely free. It would almost be worth it."

_Uhh..._

If she had turned around that moment, she would have seen the panic in Weevil's eyes. "You don't feel free?"

_Keep her talking, ese._

Molly's hands were directly over her head now, and she was swaying like a palm tree in a tropical storm. "Nobody's free. Everybody's got somebody they have to answer to."

"Not me. I'm my own boss, I don't got a woman at home asking me to do things. I'm the captain of my own ship." He hoped that hearing his tale of freedom might inspire her to not do whatever it was she was thinking of doing...if she was even planning on doing anything at all.

She brought her arms down and frowned at him. "That's sad. Nobody should be that free."

_I don't get women._

As absurd as it sounded, Weevil wondered if Molly was right. Was it really a bad thing to be so free? He may have bitched a lot about his girlfriend, but after she left, there was definitely a void. It felt good to have somebody to come home to. Some one to leave the light on.

_I probably wouldn't have stayed out so many nights if I had an ass like hers to come home to at the end of the day._

He brought his chin up proudly. He wouldn't look weak in front of her, even if he might have felt that way momentarily. Especially if he felt that way. "I like it just fine."

Head still tilted toward the water, Molly looked at him through the corner of her eye. "Why did you take me here, Eli?"

"I like to come up here sometimes, when I miss Felix. I've been thinking about him a lot since we ran into each other."

Her mouth quirked into a smile. "Ran into each other? Come on."

Weevil gave up the jig with a reluctant snicker. "Yeah, alright. I came to check you out. With all the weird shit happening to my partner, I figured somebody in your place might've seen something, the Stix being a hotbed for the local criminal element and all..."

"It wasn't always that way. I mean, it was when my uncles had control over the place, but not after they got busted."

_And now I've offended her. Ah fuck it. She's knows what's what. Who's she kidding?_

His brow lifted and he worked his tongue around the inside of his cheek. "Your customers tonight looked pretty well-versed in their Mirandas, chica."

She bristled at his words and averted her gaze back to the stormy tide. "Okay, well what'd you find out then? Did anybody see something?" Her stomach muscles tensed under his fingers. "You know what? Forget it. If somebody had seen something, I would of heard about it by now. You wouldn't be driving me out to 'inspiration point' on the back of your Harley."

_Man, she so busted my ass!_

"Inspiration point? You think this is a date?" Weevil wasn't sure why, but he liked that idea. More than he should.

_This is business, vato. Stop thinking with your dick._

Molly slowly climbed down and leaned backward against the railing to face Weevil. Her back arched toward the moonlight and his eyes settled on her cleavage without his permission. "Don't even. You've taken plenty of chicks up here without taking them out first, Eli. Probably most of them."

He missed the feel of her soft flesh under his hands, the way her hips shifted back and forth in his palms with each strong gust. Something about being with her made him feel like a teenager again, or at least gave him that rush of euphoria he used to get before the spark had gone out of his life. "Are you calling me a whore, Molly Fitzpatrick?"

Her lips pursed into a bow. "Why'd you take me out here, Eli Navarro?"

_To get you to fuck me and then pump you for info. I was gonna fuck you over twice._

He shrugged. "Felt like going for a ride. Figured you could use one too."

"Whatever." As she turned her face from his, a gust of wind tousled her hair around like an 80's video vixen, and Weevil's pants tightened uncomfortably.

_My, my, cherry pie..._

He willed himself to think of something else. Anything else. "Say, how come you never found yourself another man? Being Irish, I figured you woulda squeezed out a rugrat by now."

Molly snorted a laugh, then dug her hand into her boot and produced a small flask. "Would you want to marry into my family?" She tilted the vessel toward him, offering up the first sip.

He took the flask and unscrewed the top. "I hear that."

Weevil downed a hit of whiskey and passed the flask back to her.

_Girl only drinks the good shit. I like how she rolls._

She took a sip and leaned her head back as the spirits traveled down her throat. He watched the whole thing go down, wishing it could play out in slow motion, like the wind effect earlier. "Anyway, there was somebody, but it ended about a year ago."

A feeling stirred in his gut that he couldn't identify and had no desire to. "What happened, he do you dirty? I gotta go beat somebody up?" He hesitated for an answer before taking another swig of booze.

Molly's hand swiped the air in front of her. "No, nothing like that. He wasn't my soul mate or nothing, but we had a good time. We probably would've broken up anyway eventually. I mean, he wouldn't have ever popped the question or brought me home to his parents, with me being from the 'wrong side' of the tracks and all. I was his dirty little secret. And he was just dirty."

_She was dating an 09er?_

"So...what happened? His parents make him give you the boot?"

"No. He...it doesn't matter. Life just gets in the way sometimes, you know?" Molly took the flask from Weevil, and her fingers brushed up against his as she slowly pulled her hand away.

_Secret 09er boyfriend? Mystery breakup? Vee would be all over this shit if she were here._

"Well, he must be crazy to let your fine ass go. Maybe, I'll go pay him a visit and let Daddy Warbucks know what I think of his bullshit attitude in person. Where's he at?" Weevil looked around the area, pretending as though he were amping up for a fight, much to Molly's amusement. "So? Where is he?"

The last few drops of whiskey clung to Molly's lips before she licked them off. "The cemetery behind St. Mary's. The breakup was a little one-sided."

_Motherfucker. Girl's left more bodies in her wake than a black widow._

It wasn't the death of Molly's boyfriend that made Weevil flinch, but rather the lost expression painted across her face. It had no business being there. She was a woman to be reckoned with, and they didn't make too many of those anymore.

His jaw tightened as he geared up to ask the obvious question hanging in the air. "Your family pay him a little visit like they did Felix?"

She exhaled long and hard, her eyes glued to her boots as she slipped the empty flask back inside the right one. "They were all in lock up, Eli, I don't know what happened. Honestly. He wasn't anybody important. Just a guy I liked."

Weevil took a step closer to her and let his arms rest on either side of her body against the guardrail. "Well, if you liked him, he had to be a little bit important. I can't imagine you'd waste your time on a loser."

She shook her head slowly, and their eyes locked. "No. I can't imagine I'd do something like that."

He'd always been a passionate man, fiery and full of emotion. That helped when it came to keeping the troops in line. Nobody wanted to fuck with a guy with a short temper.

Where it hurt him though, was in his personal life. Lilly was a decision made on instinct, without thinking. In his heart, he knew they would never have a fairytale ending to their love affair, but he couldn't help himself. The pull was too strong.

_But not like this. Nothing was ever like this. _

He could almost remember what Molly tasted like, all those years ago. He'd been caught off guard by their kiss, something that had never happened to him before or since. It came out of anger and regret, not exactly what most would consider an aphrodisiac.

But he couldn't stop thinking about it...how soft her lips were...the feel of her breasts pushed up against his chest...the way her hair slid like silk thread between his fingers as he twisted it in his hand.

Weevil kept walking forward until their knees touched. Molly's frame was shivering from the cold and he wrapped her in an embrace until their bodies were flush. Her chest rose and fell rapidly against his and the weight of her in his arms felt just right.. "Molly, you can tell me...are you in some kind of trouble?"

Her eyes sparkled like jade in the reflected glow of the water. "I am now."

_I am fucked._

He let out a soft chuckle that was carried away by the wind before it could reach either of their ears. He was already within breathing distance. All it would take was a tip of the head for him to finally get a taste.

He reached out and swept the column of her neck with his fingertips, gently tracing the purple welts left there by her attacker. Some of them had already darkened to a deep navy, while others remained raised in an angry scarlet.

The memory of what happened earlier that night made him sick. That somebody would put their hand on a girl like that, particularly this one, got his blood going.

_That asshole's gonna be getting a visit from me real soon._

Molly closed her eyes as Weevil continued to follow the lines of contusions across her skin. Her skin was softer than he'd remembered, but their last encounter was so raw and urgent that by the time he'd registered that it had happened, she was already halfway across the parking lot, walking toward the school.

This time it would be different. This time, he planned to enjoy every last morsel of her, and like a dog licking a plate, he'd leave nothing behind.

"Open your eyes."

Her eyelids fluttered open and he was stuck again by the color of them, both dark and light at the same time, as green as a shamrock. She blushed under the weight of his stare, and the corners of her mouth lifted in a bashful smile that made her look younger than her age. Then, she lifted her hands up to grip his biceps and pull him closer.

Molly Fitzpatrick was an enigma. At once, a young woman with an old soul; an impenetrable ostrich egg with a gooey center; a femme fatal who never missed church on Sundays. Lilly seemed that way to him at first, but at the end, he'd realized most of what Lilly projected was artifice. Molly was the real deal, and as contradictory as she seemed, it was all genuine.

"My eyes are open now, Eli."

"Yeah..." He smirked and cupped her face in his hands. "Mine too."

As he moved closer to her face, Weevil breathed in the heady scent of whiskey that lingered on her breath mixed with the oriental musk that hovered around her like a butterfly. A pink tongue darted out to wet her lips and his dick twitched at the movement. He knew what the look on her face meant. It was his cue.

_This is it. Again._

He sunk his hand into her wind-tossed hair and leaned in, stopping just before their lips were about to touch to appreciate the moment for what it was.

Out of nowhere, a shrill beeping rang out, startling them both from their trance.

Molly turned pale at the sound of her phone and backed away from him. "I – I have to take this." She walked a few paces into the middle of the empty road and dug into her left boot to retrieve the phone. She nodded at him once before starting to talk, then cupped her hand over her lips as she spoke.

The conversation was as animated as it was short. He could tell by the expressions Molly was making, that she was giving the person on the other end of the line an earful. She stomped the heel of her cowboy boot into the asphalt and let her head drop back in irritation to face the sky.

_Man, she looks even hotter when she's pissed._

Weevil wondered who could possibly have the ability to agitate Molly like that so quickly. Unless she'd changed drastically since high school, she wasn't much for having too many friends around. She had always been a lone wolf, aloof - whether by preference or necessity – choosing to eat on her own most days in the quad, rather than suffer the company of people she disliked.

_The only other person who had their own lunch table at school was Veronica. Birds of a feather..._

Molly wasn't exactly the kind of woman who ruffled easily, so whoever she was talking to would have to have been somebody close. With a thin circle of friends and most of her family either dead or in jail, the pool of candidates was looking pretty anemic.

Her jaw tightened up as she bid her final words to the caller and dropped her phone back into her boot. Weevil wanted to go to her, to pick up where they had left off, but he knew it wasn't in the cards.

Holding the phone to her chest with eyes closed, Molly took a deep breath and collected herself before heading back over to him. "Sorry. I had to take it." She shook her head, still reeling from the conversation.

"No problemo. Seemed like something important." Weevil aimlessly flipped the keys to his hog back and forth over the palm of his hand. He needed something to do to look less eager. If he didn't focus his energy somewhere he might say something stupid and blow things for both Veronica and himself.

"It wasn't a boyfriend or anything." Molly rolled her eyes, completely misreading his intention.

Relief coursed through him like a babbling brook, slowly trickling its way into each of his limbs. He hadn't realized that he valued that information so much until she said it. "Did I ask?"

_Not that it matters. I'm still gonna hit it like a pinata._

"You didn't have to." Molly walked past Weevil without stopping until she reached his bike, straddling it without asking. "I've gotta get back. The police are still all over the joint and I want to make sure they don't swipe any of the good silver."

Weevil liked brazen women, especially this one. He smirked and jangled the keys in his hand as he headed toward his bike. "I've fenced a few pieces of The Stix's 'good silver' in my younger days, woman, and believe me, it ain't that good."

"Get the fuck on the bike, you idiot." Her hard laughter muffled as she put on her helmet.

* * *

The clock read 8AM. Somehow, the nine hours of sleep Veronica got the night before seemed to pass in the blink of an eye. As somebody who was used to surviving on only four hours of sleep, she wondered how it was possible she was still tired?

_You're sleeping for two, Mars. Get used to it._

Though she didn't have a set schedule, Veronica always felt like she was forever behind the 8-ball when it came to her schedule. She had a good lead on who was blackmailing Connor Larkin, but solving his problem? She hadn't quite figured that part out yet.

It was only yesterday that she retrieved Leo's hard drive from the bus locker, and she hadn't even dropped it off with Mac yet. This had to be a record for the amount of time she'd waited to access information. It had to be her priority now. She couldn't risk being the target of another attack. One of these days they were bound to use somebody competent.

After all, it's not like she'd be able to do any of the other things on her list if she were dead. She'd have to get her father to find out everything he could on the perps who attacked her, and then figure out a way to follow the clues back to the person responsible, without her father or Logan freaking out about her involvement. Maybe her dad would even let her question the suspects on the sly?

And then of course, there was the small matter of Logan's stalker. Whomever she was, Veronica planned to find out immediately. The note seemed more stalkery than threatening, but with Lilly in the house, she would err on the side of caution. She wasn't about to run the risk of Lilly having any kind of encounter with one of Logan's crazy fans. Duncan would be beyond pissed.

As if he could sense her impending exit, Logan rolled over and pulled her against his chest. "You're not late for anything. Stay in bed."

Veronica leaned back and allowed herself to enjoy the comfort of his embrace for a short moment. "Some of us have work."

"You're retired," he murmured into her shoulder.

"I'm not retired, I'm on a leave of absence. Anyway, I still have Mars Investigations to run. Nobody ever got rich by sleeping all day." She had to get up, there was too much to do. But the feeling of him pressing his morning erection into her back coupled with his hands rubbing tiny circles into her stomach, had her mentally pushing her schedule back an hour.

_Get a grip. Your family's safety is more important right now than getting off._

Logan left a trail of kisses across her back. "You're already rich."

Veronica groaned, not wanting to have another conversation about how Logan's money didn't belong to her.

He knew exactly what that groan meant. He'd come to be somewhat of an expert on all of her nonverbal noises, both good and bad. "What? It's true. You're going to be my wife, that means you own half of everything I do."

"Half of what you make during the course of our marriage," she corrected.

The rubbing on her stomach stopped cold. "During the course...our marriage has a course?"

_Crap._

She sighed and rolled over to face him. "That's not what I meant and you know it."

"Maybe I'll just put half of my money into an account under your name and then you'll have no choice in the matter?" He smiled, but his tone of voice was anything but happy.

"This conversation is so stupid Logan. I'm sure we can think of something more interesting to argue about if we really put our heads together."

_Like how you're hiding a stalker from me, for instance._

"Yeah. Let's put our heads together." He leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers. "This topic isn't dead though, Ronnie. You're my responsibility now."

_Why do guys always turn into cavemen once they put a ring on it?_

Veronica raised an accusatory eyebrow at him, but then let the comment go. Bigger fish to fry. "Don't you have anything else to occupy your time with right now?" She kissed a trail down Logan's neck, stopping in the center of his chest to look up. "I heard a rumor once that you were a writer."

"Writing?"

"It's like speaking, but written down." She rested her cheek on his sternum and played with the tufts of hair on his pecs as she spoke. "You know, I'm starting to think this whole author thing is just a poorly constructed cover story. A mystery writer? Pshh! Surely you could have come up with something at least slightly believable."

He grinned, enjoying the teasing as he always did. "You've got me. In reality, I'm a WWII resistance leader, hiding out in Casablanca."

Her eyes glittered as they made contact with his. "Interesting. And see, I would've put money on you comparing yourself to Bogart."

"He owns a bar," Logan said, his tone dripping with disdain. "Victor Laszlo is an international man of mystery. He's a folk hero. That's way cooler. Plus, he gets the girl in the end."

_He has a point._

Veronica stared at him with amusement before returning her attention to the hair on his chest. "Does that make me Ingrid Bergman?"

Logan ran his hand over her hair and toyed with the ends as she continued kissing down to his navel. "No. You're more like Peter Lorre." The kissing stopped and she froze, a look of total affront radiating from her upturned face. "You know, 'cause you're short."

"You really could have just told me you didn't want a blow job. You didn't have to go to all this trouble." Veronica crawled up the length of his chest and bit into his shoulder. "You know I hate you, right?" The playful tint to her voice belied her words.

He rolled her over, until he had her pinned beneath him. "You love me. You love everything about me."

_I do. It's a sickness. Even when he's in full jackass mode, I'm hopeless._

"Eh..." She tilted her hand back and forth.

His lips descended on her neck and he probed around with his tongue until he found the one spot that never failed to make her whimper. "You were saying?"

"I love you," she squeaked out between pants. "regardless of your glaring flaws."

"Glaring flaws?" Logan hit her weak spot again with his tongue and she gasped. His hand wandered under her oversized Hearst t-shirt and pulled her underwear to the side.

_Maybe I should push my schedule back two hours?_

"What? Would you rather that I hate all of your flaws? Maybe I find all of your incessant fidgeting endearing? And the way you always tear the labels off of all of the water bottles as you drink them? Magic."

His lips hovered over hers and her plunged his tongue into her mouth while thrusting into her body at the same time without warning. "At least say it like you mean it."

Her eyes squeezed shut in joy and her hands felt their way to his bare ass. "I love you, Logan. Especially the little bit of you I've got inside of me."

"That much is obvious, though I'd argue that I'm larger than average."

Veronica laughed hard. "I wasn't talking about your dong, class act. I was referring to your child."

_I still can't believe we're going to be parents. Together._

He stopped moving and caressed the sides of her face. "I can honestly say that right now, with you wearing my ring and having my baby, I'm the happiest I've ever been."

"Me too." She beamed back at him and then bucked her hips to get him started again. When he failed to move against her she groaned in protest. "Actually, as far as my happiest moment goes, it's a tie between now, and a few weeks ago when I was sleeping on the frigid, concrete floor of a sociopath's basement while wearing a Russian mafia whore's costume. So close. A toss-up really."

"I'm going to marry the shit out of you Veronica Mars." Logan pumped into her, harder and harder as she held on.

Her fingers dug into his lower back as her breathing sped up. "When you phrase it that way, how can I not be swept off my feet?"

"I feel like I'm fucking Dorothy Parker. Feel free to stop quipping and start coming at any point, Veronica."

She leaned up and kissed him hard, wrapping her hands around the sides of his head to keep him there. The salty tang of his sweat on her lips only made her want him more. She hiccuped the air a few times as she neared completion. "I'll be as earnest as a church mouse in about 60 more seconds."

"Uncle Lo?"

_Lilly? Awesome timing._

"I have a question."

_Great, now we've probably freaked the poor girl out._

Logan froze, buried deep inside of her walls as they quivered with unreleased tension. His voice was higher than usual, as a result of the strain. "Uh...yeah Lilly?"

Veronica cursed herself for not locking the door before they started, but was thankful they at least had a blanket covering their half-naked, entwined bodies.

"Do you know where the peanut butter is?" The tow-headed girl leaned against the doorframe as if nothing were happening beneath the covers. "I want peanut butter pancakes. Papa Bear said he'd make me some when he got here."

"Papa Bear?" Veronica shot Logan a questioning look.

_What has been going on between those two?_

"Did you try the pantry, sweetie?" Logan's jaw clenched tightly with the force of his effort.

"No. Just the fridge. Thanks." She turned and skipped down the hallway, leaving their door slightly ajar.

_Thank God._

They stayed unmoving until Lilly's tiny footsteps could be hear retreating down the staircase.

"Oh my God!" Logan mouthed audibly as he resumed his thrusts. "We need to get a deadbolt lock for that door."

Feeling the time constraint, Logan wordlessly plunged into her as she lifted her hips up to meet each stroke, taking him deeper. The frantic race to finish wasn't the most romantic of endings, but sometimes sex just was what it was.

His hand reached down to touch her and she arched against it.

Veronica's gaze connected with Logan's and she climaxed immediately, taking him with her in a silent release. "We need...a better...system," she said between breaths.

Logan wiped the hair out of her face and kissed her gently on the lips a few times. "I put the tie on the door handle, but she just doesn't ever get the hint. She's always eating my food and leaves her clothes everywhere. She's a crap roommate."

"Do you think we scarred her for life?"

"She didn't see anything." Logan seemed a little too relaxed for a man who was _literally_ just caught with his pants down.

"You don't know that." Veronica buried her face in his shoulder. "Oh my God. This is only the beginning of the end."

"The end of what?" He looked truly puzzled.

_Uh...our freedom? Life as we know it? Our childhood? There are so many ways I could complete that sentence it isn't even funny._

"Everything! We're never going to be alone again. Like – ever!" Her pupils were dilated with panic.

Logan kissed her forehead. "I don't want to be alone again – ever."

"Even if it means changing everything about your life that you love? Even if it means we can never leave our door unlocked or have sex on the kitchen counter again?"

"I don't care where I have sex, Bobcat. I just want it to be with you."

_It's like his mouth has a direct line to my ladyparts. Okay, that may have come out dirtier than intended, but either way you slice it, it's totally true._

Veronica blushed and burrowed into his neck. "Don't kill me..."

"You have to go?" He grimaced and pulled her back by her shoulders to look at her.

She gave him a sheepish sigh. "Yeah."

"You're turning me into a PI widow." Logan flipped onto his back and let his forearm rest across his forehead. "You know that, right?"

Veronica shook her head before positioning it onto his chest. "That's not a thing. Most PI's are womanless sad sacks with nobody waiting for them at home."

"There aren't too many times you'll hear me say this, but God I wish Weevil were here right now to hear this."

Her eyes shifted up. "You suck."

"If you insist..." Logan's hand crept it's way up her shirt again.

"Nope." She sat up suddenly and hopped off the bed. "Speaking of Weevil...I've got a lead to follow, so don't wait up."

* * *

By the time Logan made it downstairs to the kitchen, Wallace was already standing at the stove, helping Lilly flip the second batch of pancakes.

_This is kind of nice. _

The only person who ever let themselves into Logan's house before without asking was Dick, and that was usually because he was too drunk after an afternoon at the beach to make it home. Having a full house like this made him feel a bit more normal.

_This must be how the other half lives._

"You're going to have to make at least three dozen more like that, if you want to eat. Veronica was right on my heels." Logan walked over to the stove, then lifted a freshly made pancake off of the plate and took a large bite out of it. "Uuchk!" The heat from the center of the pancake burnt off the top layer of skin on his palate.

Wallace laughed at his friend. "Don't nobody told you that you could eat that. Serves you right."

_Ah yes, the flip side of having a brother. _

"It buhn mah houth!" he mumbled before running to the sink and drinking the cold water directly from the faucet. After a minute of cooling down his mouth, Logan lifted his head. "That was uncool."

Veronica breezed into the room and immediately made a beeline for the plate of pancakes. "Yum!"

Wallace placed his hand in front of hers to block it. "Those are really hot, so you might wanna give it a minute."

_Oh, she gets a warning? I see how it is now._

"Thanks for the heads up, baby brother. Maybe I'll let you have that top bunk yet." She kissed Wallace's cheek, then pulled two pancakes off of the top of the stack and waved them in the air to cool them down.

Logan looked on with incredulity.

"She's family." Wallace shrugged, a sadistic look of glee on his face.

_Oh, you will pay for that, my dear Wallace, and you will pay handsomely._

"I'm family!" Logan retorted angrily, before running his tongue under the faucet one more time.

"Yeah, but I'm cuter." Veronica stuck her tongue out at Logan and took a bite out of one pancake. "These are really good." She grabbed a paper towel and loaded eight more into her hand, before turning to Lilly. "Did you eat yet? Alicia texted – she's already waiting outside for us."

"Aww, you still have my mommy driving you around town like a teenager." Wallace pushed out his bottom lip in a pretend pout.

_Okay, that's more like it. Equal opportunity harassment._

"Might I remind you who drove your behind around while _you _were a teenager? Jeez. You'd think there would be a smidge of gratitude." Veronica marched angrily over to the counter and peeled four more pancakes from the stack.

Wallace held Lilly's hand, which held the spatula, and flipped a few more pancakes over on the griddle. "Oh, there's a smidge. That don't take away from the hilarity factor though."

"Well yuk it up, loser, because that's all going to change today. The doctor is going to clear me to drive at my appointment." Her eyes darted to Logan. "Don't be late. Not if you want to see your baby for the first time onscreen."

_Are you kidding? It's all I've been thinking about since you told me!_

"I'd never miss an Echolls film premiere, darling." Logan turned off the faucet and crossed the room to take Veronica in his arms, then bent down and stole one of her pancakes instead of kissing her.

"I'm gonna remember that." She tapped the side of her head. "This mind? Steel trap. All of your little transgressions will be filed away for future use. Like when it's my turn to do the dishes, or when our baby decides to pee all over the crib at 3am. Guess who's on clean up duty?"

"Our housekeeper, Nneka?" Logan grinned smugly before leaning to kiss Veronica goodbye. She sighed her resignation against his mouth.

Wallace wrinkled his nose at the display. "Y'all are disgusting. I thought you had somewhere to go."

Veronica tipped to the side to look at her best friend. "Uh, speaking of going somewhere...you're taking off work to hang out with my boyfriend?"

_Shit. I was hoping she'd be too preoccupied with her own shit to ask. Like that was ever a possibility. Veronica Mars always makes time for an interrogation._

Logan cleared his throat. "Fiance."

She rolled her eyes at him, silently begging him to give it a rest.

_Is she allergic to the word?_

Logan wondered why it was still so difficult for her to accept the inevitable. He asked, she said yes, and he was going to marry her. He'd marry her even if he had to tie her to a judge's desk to get her to do it.

"Hold up! He's your what?" Wallace looked between the two of them with his arms crossed. "You forgetting to tell me something?"

Veronica blushed and held up her left hand.

"You're a damn miracle worker." Wallace clapped Logan on the back and chuckled to himself. "Now Keith will have to find something new to complain about. Congratulations, you two."

Logan nodded, enjoying the rare show of fraternity. "Thanks."

"Man, when you said it, I totally thought your ass was lying!"

Veronica looked sharply at Wallace for the language slip and then at Lilly, who was oblivious to all. "Yeah, go figure. For once, Logan wasn't lying."

"For _once_?" Logan didn't appreciate the comment.

She smiled tightly and pursed her lips before speaking. "Where are you boys off to this fine afternoon?"

_Right, I am lying. My bad._

"We've got some guy things to do." Logan held his breath, hoping that would suffice for the moment.

"Oh! Guy things! It's so clear now." She smacked her own forehead with the palm of her hand.

_Okay, it was a long shot._

"I thought maybe Wallace could help us with a little wedding planning."

"Right. Because when I think wedding planning, I automatically think 'Wallace Fennel'," she snapped.

"Actually..." Wallace lifted his finger to interject. "I know the perfect little shop. They sell everything, right on down to the invitations."

Logan shot him a withering stare.

"You know what? I don't have time right now, but we _will _revisit this later. Lilly! I'm heading out to the car, I suggest you follow." Veronica strode across the marble floor toward the front door and stopped. "You already peed, right?"

_She really sounds like a mom. Is it gross that this is turning me on?_

Lilly groaned. "Yes, Auntie Vee. I know how to use the bathroom when I need it."

"Good. Then you should be joining us shortly." She smiled at Logan over Lilly's shoulder and his chest contracted.

It didn't matter that he'd known her for 12 years, or that he'd just fucked her in the bedroom they shared together, every time he thought about building a life with her, it was a revelation. His cup was constantly overflowing, and his heart just couldn't take it.

Wallace shook his head. "You've got it bad."

_You don't know the half of it._

Logan took one last look at the door Veronica had just shut and turned to him. "Proudly."

"Bye Uncle Lo! Thanks for the pancakes, Papa Bear!" Lilly zipped across the hallway in a clatter and slammed the door behind her.

"Let's take care of business then." Wallace turned off the gas and tossed the spatula into the sink.

"Reporting for duty." Logan saluted.

Wallace took a deep breath and wiped his hands off on a kitchen towel. "This is it though, Echolls. If we don't turn up anything..."

"...I'll tell Keith. I promise." He made sure to look serious when he said it. Maybe because he was.

* * *

For a church that catered to Neptune's poorer neighborhoods, St. Mary's didn't have the grandeur of its better-heeled cousins on the other side of town. Though immensely larger, the stained glass windows weren't any more intricate in design than the ones gracing the walls of the Mars Investigations office, but with sturdy sandstone columns dotting the nave, the church still managed to cast an impressive shadow.

Walking into the darkened space – Illuminated solely by filtered light through colored glass and the tall votives lining the side altars – was like entering another time. Seven years ago, to be specific.

"Why are there so many candles?" Lilly whispered as she grabbed a hold on Veronica's hand.

"Different reasons." Veronica smiled at her goddaughter's perennial curiosity. "Some of them are in honor of people who have died, some are offerings by people who are praying for something, and others are just because." She honestly had no idea if she was right, but her answer seemed to satisfy the little girl for the moment.

Lilly reached out and let her hand caress the ornate carving on the outside of the mahogany confessional. "What's this box for?"

_Oh, you know, for abusing people's trust by filming them during their most vulnerable moments._

Feelings of guilt erupted like heartburn in Veronica chest. The last time she'd been to St. Mary's, she had bugged that confessional. Even without being a Catholic, she knew how wrong it was at the time. Sadly, it had just been one example in a long list of breaches in ethics she had displayed throughout her years. It wasn't the first, and it definitely wasn't the last. In fact, she was planning on crossing yet another fuzzy moral boundary very shortly.

"Can I help you, miss?" A ginger-haired man with kind eyes in his early 50's approached them, saving Veronica from having to answer yet another of Lilly's questions. He wore a priest's collar and coat over a pair of casual black jeans.

"Yes, please. Are you the head priest of this church?"

The man chuckled and looked around. "I'm the only priest. There used to be two, but the other father had to leave suddenly and we never bothered to hire a replacement. It didn't make sense, with church membership dropping off as much as it has around the country. I'm Father Seamus."

_Father Patrick never looked like a scumbag. Guess I'm not the only one he had fooled._

Veronica smiled and took the man's hand in greeting. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Father Seamus. Have you been at this parish for a while?"

"Ten years in May."

"Great, then I think maybe you could help me." She looked at Lilly with a sad expression. "Well, us really."

Lilly batted thick eyelashes at Veronica and clung more dearly to her arm. "I'm looking for my daddy."

_Oh God, this girl is good. It's frightening, really._

"I'm sorry dear, we haven't had too many people in this morning, and nearly all of them have been elderly women. From the community."

_Okay, I'm guessing 'community' is code for Mexican._

Veronica leaned in conspiratorially and lowered the volume of her voice. "No. He wouldn't be here inside the church. He would be _residing_ out back."

Father Seamus's eyes widened at the implication. "I see. I'm very sorry to hear that. I'll help in any way I can, of course. If you could just give me the young man's name, I can check the plot roster for you."

Lilly buried her tear-streaked face into Veronica's side, and the cleric immediately knelt at her feet.

_Is she gunning for the Oscar or something?_

"The name?" He looked to Veronica for the information.

_That's what you're going to tell me._

"We don't know." Off Father Seamus's confused look, she shook her head. "What I mean is...in his line of work, he was known to use a lot of aliases." A cautious gaze drifted down to the top of Lilly's head and then back to the priest. "We just don't know which one he was buried under. He wasn't exactly around too much at the end." She cupped Lilly's ear against her torso with a gentle hand. "I didn't want to expose her to that kind of life."

Slandering a dead man's name – whatever name that may be. She had hit a new low. Too bad she couldn't stop by the confessional on the way out to cleanse her conscience.

_If there is a hell, I'll be on the express track._

He nodded in understanding. "Of course. Well, do you have any details at all? Like when he passed or his age?"

"He was young - in his 20's like me - though it's impossible for me to have known for sure, since he never kept ID on him. He was Caucasian, originally from a wealthy family, though they weren't too involved with his life. He passed around a year ago. We only heard about it second hand."

A troubled look crossed the priest's face. "And you're certain it's St. Mary's that he's buried at?"

Veronica shrugged her shoulders and wrapped an arm around Lilly's back. "That's what we were told."

He rose to his feet slowly and exhaled a tight breath, his eyes squeezed shut in disappointment. "There's really only one candidate it could be. We don't get too many wealthy, white men at this church. I just – I didn't figure him for a deadbeat dad." He dusted off the knees of his jeans and cocked his head. "Come on then. I'll take you to him."

_Hallelujah!_

* * *

**A/N2:**** As always, my heart belongs to my amazing beta, silverlining2k6 for saving me from myself (and occasionally my unintelligible prose).**

**- I know there was no MaDi. I swear their plot is tied into the whole thing, but it's just been so hard to fit them in, without breaking up the momentum of the main story. I will definitely be having that CW/Dick scene in the next chapter, and maybe a little Mac snooping around, so look for it.**

**- Weevil/Molly - if you don't ship these two by now, I just don't know what else I can do! I adore them together. I just do. If you hate it...(shifts eyes)**

**Speaking of which, what's lurking in the attic at the River Stix? Big clue to solve the whole thing. Any guesses as to who Molly's 09er ex was and what happened to him? **

**- LoVe - you know the Madison reveal is coming.**

**- Duncan...sigh. Any ideas as to where this story line is headed? My one clue is: 'Season 2'.**

**- Reviews - I've gone through and answered all of them, I think. If I've missed you for some reason, I apologize. Those who send in reviews know that I answer all questions. I really appreciate all feedback, big and small, so if you have the time, I'd love to hear what you think. Thanks for reading!**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N - Hello! I was thinking of going back to a shorter chapter format, because I think the longer time between chapters is beginning to losing some of you (the comments have been dwindling). It's also pretty taxing to produce, so unless you're clamoring for more and willing to wait for it, I might switch back to shorter, more frequent chapters. **

**This chapter is rated T. Sorry - no sexytimes.**

* * *

Perviously: Duncan was given a shiv by a mysterious benefactor as well as a copy of the book 'The Count of Monte Cristo' from Carmen. Weevil took Molly out for a ride on his bike and they went to the Coronado Bridge. She seemed distraught and let it slip that she had an '09er boyfriend who had died roughly a year ago. They almost kissed, interrupted by a call on her phone. The phone call was angry and she told him they had to leave immediately after she hung up. Lilly walked in on Logan and Veronica while they were having sex, further solidifying the fact that the baby was going to change everything about her life. Wallace and Logan embarked on a trip to find the artists who made the stationary. Veronica took Lilly to St. Mary's to investigate Molly's '09er ex-boyfriend, hoping it would give her a clue to help with the Connor case.

* * *

**CHAPTER 15**

"It's just down this row, up ahead." Father Seamus guided Veronica by the elbow and pointed her toward a fine, basalt gravel path that lead to a secluded row of cemetery plots that - judging by the larger size of the headstones – appeared to be the final resting place for a few of the wealthier parishioners. "His is the one down at the end."

"Thank you, Father." Veronica's smile reached her eyes. It made her feel good to know that somebody trustworthy was looking after this particular flock once again, after getting fleeced by Father Fitzpatrick.

"I'll give you both some privacy. Take as long as you need." Father Seamus turned to leave, but then paused, and lightly placed his hand onto hers. "He did a lot for this congregation. I know he was a troubled boy, but his heart was always in the right place. I thought you might like to know that."

As Veronica watched the priest follow the stone path back toward the church, her eyes began to well with tears for a man she never knew. "I would."

_These hormones are not playin'! When did I turn into such a soft touch? _

She felt a short tug at the edge of her sleeve. "You okay, Auntie Vee?"

Veronica wiped her eyes on the back of her hand and looked down on her goddaughter. "You're not the only blonde who can cry on demand."

_Just wish I still had the power to stop crying on demand, as well._

Lilly stifled a giggle and Veronica hip-checked her lightly in the direction of the plot. The little one broke free from her godmother's orbit and ran up ahead.

"It's this one, right?" Lilly stood with the tips of her black Mary Jane's pressed up against the bright green slab of sod that had barely taken root in the cold ground.

"That's what the man said."

A stiff breeze swept through the cemetery, shaking the fronds on the palm trees lining the outer perimeter of the property, bowing their trunks in compliance like Roman servants. A shiver ran through Veronica's frame and she pulled her light jacket tighter around her chest.

"What's 2013 minus 1987?" Lilly frowned as she looked at the headstone.

Veronica stopped in her tracks. "25. He was 25 years old, or about to turn 26, maybe."

_I'm 25. I can't imagine this being all the life I get. It seems so unfair._

"Daddy is going to be 25."

"Yeah. Me too."

Lilly examined the gravestone, rubbing her hand back and forth over the shiny, honed surface of the black granite. "Is this where grandmother is going to be buried?"

Veronica's throat constricted as she scrambled to come up with a response. "This isn't your grandmother's church, and she may get better. We have to think positively."

The strangest sensation bubbled up in her chest as she realized she actually _did _want Celeste to get healthy again. There may have been no love lost between the two women, but she was one of the few people Duncan and Lilly had left, and that was enough of a reason to wish her well.

Her ballet flats made a satisfying crunch on the stone path as she hurried to catch up with her charge.

"So, what do we have here?" Veronica wrapped an arm around Lilly's tiny waist.

"I don't know how to pronounce that." Lilly pointed to the inscription and squinted her eyes.

Veronica's gaze followed Lilly's finger and settled on the headstone. The engraved letters were all easy to recognize and legible, but once she read them all together, they were a jumble in her mind.

Her heart sped to a gallop, pumping blood so thickly in her chest that she made sure to scope out a soft place to land in case she fainted. She dug her fingers harder into Lilly's side for support.

"Ow. That really hurts," Lilly grumbled and wiggled out of her grasp.

Tears fells generously from Veronica's eyes, but most were carried away by the Santa Anas before they could reach her cheeks. "I'm sorry. I'm so so sorry."

"It's okay. I know it was an accident." Lilly wrapped both arms around her godmother's waist and burrowed into her for warmth, then looked around furtively. "The priest isn't watching anymore, Auntie Vee. You don't have to cry."

Veronica leaned down and kissed the top of Lilly's head, before wiping her face clean with both hands and affecting a happy facade. "You can never be too careful, can you? First lesson in the PI biz, kid."

"What's the second?" Giant blue eyes blinked up at her expectantly, and she felt herself envying the unadulterated hopefulness in the girl's face.

Veronica's fingers combed through Lilly's bright blonde locks, the action soothing her just as much as it soothed the child. "Most people will let you down at some point, but it doesn't always make them a bad person. Some people are just weak."

Lilly looked pensive as she took in the advice, and then snapped back into the moment. "What's the third?"

A laugh rumbled in Veronica's throat, but it was superficial. "I can't go giving away all my secrets. Tell you what, if you're a good girl while I'm at the doctor's office. I'll tell you number three."

Lilly's lips twisted into the confident smirk of a girl used to talking her way into anything. "The first five."

"Excuse me?" She lifted her brow.

"I want the first five tips of being a PI."

Veronica laughed again, but this time is was genuine. "You promise not to touch the sonogram machine, and you've got yourself a deal. Okay?"

"Okay!"

"Alicia's double-parked out front. Come on, I'll race you inside." She popped Lilly playfully on the behind, sending her running in the direction of the church with a squeal.

The faintest swell was evident on Veronica's stomach, and as she settled her hand on top of it, a surge of protectiveness charged through her. Though her baby was only the size of a lima bean, she wouldn't let them end up like this young man. He was somebody's child once, too.

She was desperate to leave, but couldn't bring herself to do it without at least paying her respects. She turned back once more to the plot and knelt down just in front of the grave. The soft grass cushioned her feet as she teetered, trying hard to balance herself on the mounded turf without wiping out.

Her fingers traced the intense, bold lettering that was engraved on to the speckled midnight granite. "I really thought you'd changed, but I guess it didn't take." A firm gust of wind splashed one of her tears onto the headstone. "Or maybe you really never changed at all."

She rubbed her hand back and forth over his first name, and then pressed her palm into it for support as a deep feeling of regret overtook her. "Rest in peace. It's high time you had some of that."

* * *

Behind a potted fern next to the rear exit of the courtyard, Veronica keeled over and emptied the contents of her stomach.

_Damn. What a waste of a half dozen really good pancakes. _

She wiped her mouth off on the back of her hand and smoothed her hair down from where she'd been holding it back.

_Upchuck, my old friend, can't say I'm happy to see you again so soon. _

Veronica was certain she was a walking example of Murphy's Law. She had to be. Why else would she find herself puking behind a church graveyard just a few days after her last episode of morning sickness. It was clear the universe wanted her on her knees for an unforeseen duration.

Spying Alicia's Honda CRV idling in front of the churchyard gate, she ducked quickly into the passenger's side of the car and shut the door behind her, then dropped her bag to the floor and began searching through it for her bottle of water.

"Did you get what you needed?" Alicia gestured for Veronica to put on her seat belt and then shifted her gear into drive.

As she sipped her water, Veronica gave a subtle nod, then pulled the belt taut across her chest and groped the seat blindly with her hand and until she felt the familiar junction of plastic and metal. "You could say that."

_No use getting into it. It's not like chatting about it is going to make me feel better – it'll only make Alicia feel worse._

As if reading her mind, Alicia shook her head ruefully and turned her eyes to the road. "You and your father, both. I swear."

Veronica's head cocked toward her step-mother in question.

"You're just terrible liars. I mean, don't get me wrong, you're amazing when you're undercover, lying to strangers, but when it comes to keeping the truth from your loved ones..." She made a raspberry noise as she tilted her thumb toward her lap.

The idea of being busted by a parent – even at her age, even though it wasn't technically _her _parent – brought a smile to Veronica's lips. It was nice to have a person know you that well and care enough to call you out on your bullshit. "Clairvoyance. Would you say it's a burden or a gift?"

Alicia threw her head back and laughed. "A little of both...and stop trying to change the subject."

Veronica knew when she was good and licked. She honestly didn't know why she bothered trying to keep things from Alicia anymore. She always had a sixth sense when it came to any of her children.

_I wonder if I'll be like that with my little nugget?_

"So what happened in there that got you so upset?"

"Nothing. Really, Alicia, it was nothing." The corners of her mouth picked up slightly, but there was nothing joyful coming from her eyes.

Alicia pulled the car to the side of the road and slipped the gear into neutral. "You knew the person."

Veronica looked out of the window at the sidewalks as they passed and almost imperceptibly bobbed her head.

Dead leaves billowed like funnel clouds past technicolor grass, in a jarring juxtaposition. Nobody liked to face up to death and decay, especially in Neptune. And if they were rich, they didn't have to. They could lift their faces, line their lawns with Franken-grass and all-weather perennials, and avoid the stench of mortality in a multitude of different ways. They could even change the seasons – obliterate the ugliness and inconveniences that Winter created altogether – and the moldy browns and muted greens it brought along with it.

_The woman at the Fred Segal makeup counter said I was a 'Winter'. Figures._

The scene outside on the streets reminded her of the Echoll's ill-fated Christmas party that she invited herself to so many years ago. Aaron and Lynn spared no expense to turn the Echolls mansion into a Winter Wonderland, complete with a 15 foot designer tree, acres of twinkle lights, and hired a snow machine to dazzle the guests with. But underneath all of the beauty and manufactured joy, that house was as rotten as they come.

The only thing she'd been dazzled by that night was real – Logan's eyes – which seemed to follow her around the room wherever she went, like a Victorian painting. She couldn't admit it to herself then, but each time she felt his hot stare on her back, her pulse picked up a little bit. It was messy, the feelings she had for him then, and he was anything but perfect, but she was always drawn to what lurked in the shadows. It was the impeccable that usually tweaked her antennae.

At the cemetery, she'd felt the darkness. She hadn't noticed it the first time she'd met the man who now filled that grave. He was as warm as apple-pie and seemed almost as wholesome. Little did she know what secrets hid beneath a pair of twinkling blue eyes.

"Oh honey." Alicia's face reflected the grief Veronica didn't have the energy or desire to feel. "Do you know what happened to him?"

Veronica absently traced the edges of her window with her index finger. "Not yet, but when I do...let's just say, I really hope the perp is up to date on their health insurance payments, because I aced my firearms training."

Alicia expelled a sigh and reluctantly took her foot off the break. "Don't let Logan or your dad hear you talking like that."

Lilly kicked the back of the front passenger's chair, over and over again in a rhythmic pattern, prompting Veronica to turn around and grab the girl's ankles.

"I told you I would and I will. Now stop." Veronica squinted intently at her goddaughter.

With golden curls and bright doll's eyes, all Lilly was missing was a halo, but as with Veronica, looks could be deceiving. This girl was no angel, and she loved her all the more for it.

Lilly folded her arms tightly and smirked. "Chocolate. Two scoops."

_I can't believe I'm getting the shakedown from a seven year old._

"I know," Veronica hissed. "You act like you're the first small child I've bribed to do my bidding before. I know the drill."

Alicia looked through the rear view mirror at both ladies warily and then turned her eyes back to the road.

The strains of Tom Jones' 'Sex Bomb' filled the car and Veronica cringed as she dove into her messenger bag and fished out her phone to answer it. "Hello?"

"Hello kitten," Logan drawled on the other end of the line.

Veronica mouthed the word 'Logan' in Alicia's direction and then cupped the receiver with her hand. "Hello puppy," she whispered, trying not to smile like an idiot. "I see you've been into my phone again."

_He always knows when I need to hear his voice. I don't know how he does it._

"I thought I deserved something a little more original than the standard factory ring tone."

"I can't disagree with that. You certainly are an original." She wedged the phone between her shoulder and ear, then slumped against the door and turned back to drawing on the window with her finger. This time, she doodled a flower.

"Earnestness? Should I be concerned? We can always push that doctor's appointment an hour earlier..."

"We could, but then how would I fit in that base jump I had scheduled for this afternoon?" She closed her eyes and hoped he wouldn't ask what she really had planned. "Speaking of which...are you sure you're going to be back in time?"

"This is the biggest moment of my life. I think I can clear my schedule for it."

All she wanted to do was wrap herself in the feeling she had and take a nap. "I thought you said that kissing me on the terrace of the Camelot was the biggest moment of your life."

"Aww, you're already jealous. It's adorable."

She couldn't help but smile at his teasing tone. "You're a jackass."

"Well, you agreed to marry me, so what does that make you?"

"An amnesiac?" The second the words left her mouth she wished she could take them back.

_Fuck! You don't always have to grab for the nearest fruit! God, now things are going to be weird between us all day._

There was a long silence between them, punctuated only by the sound of their breathing and Veronica's heart beat, which was suddenly ringing louder than ever in her head. "I'm sorry. That was...I didn't mean that how it came out."

The thrumming in her ears was overtaken by an achingly familiar, self-deprecating laugh. "Not sure Sigmund Freud would see it that way," he said, under his breath.

"Logan..." She cradled the received against her face, wishing desperately for it to be his cheek. She drew a heart on the window with her finger, then wiped it away with a closed fist.

"I should go. The reception on the highway isn't the best."

Before she had a chance to answer, he had already disconnected the call.

_Perhaps we should get on booking that first therapy appointment? We need it yesterday._

With two taps, Veronica pulled up a blank text screen, entered Logan's name on the 'To' line and stared at it for a beat before rapidly typing something in and hitting 'send'.

_The sun is round... _

"Everything okay, Veronica?"

Veronica's eyes flicked to Alicia, whose attention was engrossed in the traffic ahead and then back to her window. "Peachy."

"I can never tell with you two," she laughed, "the way you fight and the way you love sound exactly the same to me."

_As usual, step-mommy knocks it out of the park._

"Yeah, we're uh...working on that." Veronica unbuttoned the first few buttons on her dress and pulled the pins out of her hair, shaking the strands free to frame her face. She couldn't go flouncing her way into The River Stix looking like she'd just come from mass. "So...Alicia. I was wondering if you wouldn't mind making a quick stop."

Her eyebrows peaked. "Dare I ask?"

"Swenson's. The ice cream shop." Veronica turned to smile at Lilly. "It's like she doesn't trust us at all."

Alicia nodded gamely. "Right. We're talking about the same Swenson's that's across the street from The River Stix? That one?"

_Why do I keep thinking I can pull one over on her? _

Veronica deflated at being called out. "Is it? I hadn't noticed."

Without even looking at her, Veronica could feel her step-mother's disapproval radiating over to her side of the car.

"You can't go in there alone."

"I'm not going in there to knock heads, I'm just having a chat with an old friend from high school." Veronica kicked off her shoes and pulled her knees up to her chest on the seat.

_Perhaps a loose application of the word friend, but still not a total lie. We were at the same high school together, and we once attended the same party. That makes us friends...sort of._

Letting her head drop back against the headrest, Alicia sighed. "You can't even manage to say something as innocuous as that without it coming off menacing."

"I sound menacing?" Veronica's eyes lit up and she stretched out in her chair. "Dreams really can come true."

"Veronica..." Alicia's tone may have been soft, but her undertone was rock hard.

"If I told you the person I'm visiting was a women, would it make you feel better?"

"How about you tell me about that ring on your left hand and we'll call it even?" She raised an eyebrow, and a victorious smile played on her lips.

Veronica felt her whole body flush with the observation and wondered why she felt embarrassed by their engagement. She loved Logan, she wasn't ashamed of him or their relationship, but the same thing had happened when Wallace called her out about it before. "I thought you were supposed to be clairvoyant?"

_Another one for the therapist. I really should start keeping a list. _

* * *

Dick had never spent the night in a girl's bed before without having sex with her. But, sitting in the middle of Mac's bed, with his body propped up halfway on both of their pillows as he watched her get ready for work, he felt oddly more satisfied than he had in a long time.

And Veronica always said he couldn't keep it in his pants.

_Hell, even I was worried I couldn't keep it in my pants, so I guess I can't hate._

Mac struggled to open a stuck drawer.

"You need a hand? My man-power is at your disposal." He folded his arms behind his neck and grinned at her until her skin pinked, creeping up her neck like a fever.

She shook her head. "It's not about manpower, Dick, it's about finesse." Lifting it on an angle, she easily slid the drawer back on the rail. "Brains over brawn."

"But it's sometimes about manpower, Mackie. You can't kick a guy's ass using your brains."

"I disagree." She smiled smugly at him through the mirror as she fastened her earrings. "In all situations, brains will always trump brawn."

A warm feeling settled in his gut. He'd never talked like this with a woman before, never had a debate about anything deeper than how many beers it would take before bad judgment set in.

_For the record, it's seven for a dude, four for a chick._

Dick slid down to the edge of the bed and pulled Mac from her feet onto his lap. "What about in bed. Do you want me to use my brains in the sack?" His fingers lifted the hem of her dress and ghosted the underside of her thigh.

She cleared her throat and shook her head just enough to reset her focus. "Why don't you try to prove your argument tonight after I get home from work?"

"Still got six more days."

_Six, long ass days..._

"You're being a total idiot, you know. I say this with love, of course." His eyebrows raised at her choice of words and she sputtered in response. "I – I didn't mean it like _that_."

Part of him was disappointed that she rushed to correct herself so quickly.

_I know she's into me. Nobody's ever looked at me the way she does, like she knows I've got mono but wants to French me anyway._

"Didn't you?" He knew she didn't, or at least didn't realize it yet, but was having too much fun watching her squirm to put her out of her misery.

Her head collapsed against his shoulder and she let out a strangled moan. "If there were a pit nearby, I would have already thrown myself into it."

He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her more tightly onto his lap, close enough to let his lips settle just behind her ear. "Guess I'd just have to use my ripped brains to haul your ass out of there then, huh?"

He could feel a shiver go through her and, as a result, his pants began to tighten painfully.

_Six days, dude. You can do it. _

Without warning, Mac spun around and pushed Dick flat against the bed, then climbed to straddle his waist and pinned his arms over his head. "If you're going to deny me sex because of some stupid, poorly-conceived quest to prove your intentions to me, then you're going to have to learn to keep your hands – and especially your lips – to yourself."

_Damn! When I finally do hit it, I'm going to tear it up but good. Feisty chicks rock! _

Dick bucked his now-hard erection into her center and she growled at the contact.

"You never mentioned anything about my dong." He batted his eyelashes at her like a newborn foal.

"First of all...'dong'? Of all the choices available, you go with that?" Mac leapt off of his lap with the speed of a cat and shoved her feet into her shoes almost violently.

"I'm retro!" he called after her. "Where are you going? Come back!"

She chuckled bitterly to herself, mumbling her frustrations as she grabbed her bag up off of the carpeted floor and slung it low across her chest."I'm not sticking around just to be tortured. I assume you can lock up with your ill-begotten key when you leave?"

She sounded pissed, but something behind her eyes assured him that she was playing along willingly.

_Ill-begotten? Hot._

Her big words were getting him hard in a big way, and he wasn't sure just what to make of it yet.

"I could...or you could just stay." Dick ran both hands through his hair at the same time and decided to drop the pretense. "I don't like the idea of you spending the whole day at your office with that pervert."

Mac braced herself against the wall. "So you thought it would be better if I stayed here and spent the whole day with _this _pervert instead?"

"Yeah, well _this_ pervert didn't try to date rape you!"

_Nah, this pervert only tried to date rape Madison Sinclair. And Mackie was supposed to be Madison. Not feeling too good about the irony._

Mac waved as she turned to leave the room. "Goodbye Dick. Don't forget your club on the way out."

He scrambled off of the bed and was at her side before she reached the foyer. "I get it. I'm a caveman. Ha. Ha."

"Nothing to get, _Dick_." She turned around, both hands planted firmly on her hips. "It wasn't a joke. You're acting like I can't take care of myself and it's insulting."

He grabbed at the hem of her cardigan and pulled her closer. "How would you feel if I worked with a Commie mob dude who wanted a piece of me?" Off her amused look, he pulled her even closer and pouted his lips. "What? It could happen."

"You'd have to have an office first, hot stuff."

He reached past her to the console and lifted his cell phone from it, holding it out for her to see. "I am my office, and hinky shit can happen anywhere...even at a three star restaurant. I mean, were you expecting him to slip you a 'mickey' somewhere between your appetizer and main course?"

"Actually, it was just after the amuse bouche, and we don't know for sure if it was him."

_Is this for real or is she fucking with me? If I didn't know what a fighter she was first-hand, I'd half-expect to find a control panel under that dress._

For a second, he was distracted by the memory of Mac lying naked across the bed.

He didn't know whether he wanted to throttle her or chain her leg to the nearest heavy object. "We do know you're double crossing him though. Right?"

Mac's bravado fell away and she sighed heavily, letting her head fall forward in defeat. "Yeah. I guess we do know that."

Dick lifted her chin, forcing her to look him in the eyes. "The real question is...does he?"

His chest tightened thinking of the risk she was taking every day, just by showing up. When her gaze finally met his, he could finally see the fear radiating from her eyes.

"Don't you get it?" She shut her eyes tightly, almost as though she were in pain. "If I think too deeply about the risk, I'm not going to be able to do it."

"So, don't do it."

_This isn't going to work. She's already got her mind made up. Who am I kidding?_

She shook her head and pulled his hands from her face. "I don't have a choice. It's the only way out."

He grabbed her wrist before she could turn. "There's always another way. Just trust me. I got you into this, and I'm gonna get you out of it."

"Don't you get it? There is _no _way out. Whatever I do, I'm fucking over somebody formidable and they're going to want to make me pay." She broke away from him and put her hand on the doorknob. "The only way to minimize the damage right now is to just hope that the person I end up screwing over is the less vindictive of the two. Just pray that I'm betting on the right horse."

Dick watched helplessly as Mac shut the door behind her. Whether or not she wanted him to, he was going to do something. He couldn't just leave her to deal with it alone when the whole mess was his fault in the first place.

_I wonder how long it takes to drive to Kane Software from here?_

* * *

The bar was a place of transition, where some lucky people made it out alive, while other, less-fortunate souls, floated away into oblivion. Then there were the ones who washed up on the shores in-between. Those were the patrons of The River Stix.

Veronica pushed open the doors to the bar, and disappeared into the musty darkness inside. Even if the place hadn't been named after the passageway to the underworld, she would have described it that way.

The overhead speaker system blasted the holiday classic, 'All I Want For Christmas is You', into a near empty bar. Like a retail store in a suburban mall, Molly's Christmas hits CD was in heavy rotation. Though not a particularly cheerful crowd, the thugs that hung out at The River Stix sure did love their Christmas. They were always happy to have a legitimate excuse to drink to excess.

Shocked by the sheer force of Mariah Carey's voice against her eardrums, a curse slipped from Veronica lips.

_I can't hear right for two weeks, and I come back to this? _

A pair of cat-shaped eyes popped up from underneath the bar and regarded Veronica cautiously.

"A little early for somebody like you to be drinking. Also maybe a little too pregnant." Molly slapped her pad inventory on the counter and kicked the door of the mini fridge closed with her boot.

"Sometimes my fetus just wants to get its drink on. Who am I to fight these pregnancy cravings?" Veronica forced a laugh and helped herself to the stool directly opposite Molly.

"Eli go blabbing to you about what happened last night or something?" Molly slammed a glass down in front of Veronica and filled it with orange juice.

"Weevil's personal life is just that, Molly. You should know he's not one to kiss and tell."

Molly narrowed her eyes in Veronica's direction as if searching for something in her face, and then shrugged it off and went back to counting mini bottles of tonic. "Yeah? Well there was no kiss, so there ain't nothing to tell, okay?"

_Your body language says otherwise..._

Veronica held her hands up in surrender. "As you've undoubtedly heard, Eli is very chaste, but ladies do love a challenge."

A wet rag shot across the length of the bar until it slapped the cash register in a sloppy, wet heap. "So, what? You're here about the other thing, then?"

_What other thing? I wasn't until you mentioned it, Molly._

"That's right, the other thing. You got me." Veronica folded her fingers steeple-style and leaned them on the top of the bar. The sticky goo that greeted her there made her visibly cringe. "Care to elaborate?"

_There isn't enough Purell in the world to kill whatever I just got on my hands. _

Molly pulled the high neck of her dress down to expose the network of bruises circling her throat.

Veronica's morning sickness returned with a vengeance. She'd seen bruises like this on other victims - many of them in the morgue. Pushing the glass of OJ a few inches forward to avoid the smell, she tried to figure out the best way to approach this. Molly Fitzpatrick wasn't exactly your average victim.

"Do you need me to have somebody picked up for that? I can call my dad...or you and I can just round up a posse and give this guy the beat down of his life." Veronica smiled tightly, but her eyes were fire and brimstone.

"No way." Molly shook her head as she pulled her top back into place. "I need to take care of this one myself. You get that, right?"

If anybody else had said something like that to her, she would have already be on the phone arranging for a security detail to trail them around. But how do you best protect a woman weaned on a straight diet of whiskey rocks and the blood of her family's enemies?

_Answer: You let her deal with it her way._

"I get it." Veronica reluctantly nodded, knowing she'd be a full-on hypocrite to do anything but.

Vigilante justice was something Veronica had intimate knowledge of, especially when the victim in question was a woman, but she couldn't force her to accept help. "But - if you change your mind or you need backup, give me a call. We can keep this one off the books."

"It's being handled, but I appreciate the offer. Really." Molly's mouth quirked into a smile and her eyes softened. "So, are we going to play 20 questions, or are you just going to come out with the real reason you're here?"

_Here goes nothing._

"Well, I was thinking of looking up an old boyfriend of mine, and was told that you might be able to help me." Veronica pulled the glass of juice back over and internally debated the likelihood of the glass containing E. coli.

_Better not to chance it._

"I don't think we run in the same circles, Mars." A brook of laughter babbled from her lips.

Veronica raised a finger in protest. "There's where you're wrong."

Molly's expression changed from annoyance to pity. "Look, I never fucked Logan Echolls, if that's what you're worried about." She pressed the heels of both hands onto the worn copper patina of the bar and smirked at Veronica. "I'm probably the only stacked blonde in a 30 mile radius who hasn't, but you're barking up the wrong tree."

Veronica cleared her throat, completely thrown for a loop by that assessment. Of course she knew Logan had been less than virtuous in his youth, but when people like Molly Fitzpatrick have an awareness of your boyfriend's type, maybe it's time to schedule a little powpow with the old man just to get a heads up on his general activities since their last Neptune encounter. The only thing she hated more than hearing about Logan's past was a nasty surprise. "This isn't about Logan. It's about another boyfriend, one we have in common, actually."

"You and I dated the same guy?" Doubt and confusion warred over Molly's features. "I don't believe it. I'd be willing to bet a bottle of Bushmills that we don't have the same taste in men."

_Something tells me he wasn't exactly the 'same' guy when you and I dated him._

"It's been a while since I've seen him, but I was wondering if you might be able to give me a lead on where I could...dig around." She took a sip of the juice to stall for time, knowing for sure that the other woman's reaction would be, at the very least, openly hostile. "Troy Vandergraff."

Molly's physically recoiled at the name, her face stricken. Her eyes shot to the ceiling momentarily, and then hardened, before focusing directly at Veronica again. "I don't know where you get your information, but it's faulty."

_Did it just get cold in here?_

"Is it?" Veronica scratched her head in confusion. Playing dumb was usually her go-to, but she had a hunch Molly wasn't going to buy what she was selling. She's have to play this a different way. "Huh. Well, that's odd. See, I have this friend, who said he saw you two together about a year ago."

"A friend?" She snorted her repudiation, then lifted the wet rag from the register where it had fallen earlier, and wrung it out roughly over the sink.

"I believe you know him...or at least _of _him. Connor Larkin?" Veronica held her breath and waited for the coming fallout.

Molly jogged around the bar faster than Veronica thought possible in a dress that short, appearing at the smaller woman's side before she'd had the chance to exhale.

"You need to go. Now." Molly grabbed her firmly by the upper arm and marched her toward the door.

Veronica protested, trying to push her way back toward the bar. "Molly...whatever you've done...can be fixed, okay? It's not too late. I can help you."

Molly wrenched open the door to her bar and pushed Veronica through it like she was shooing out a housefly. "You can't help me. Nobody can, and if you value your health, don't even think about trying."

The door slammed in Veronica's face and she heard the deadbolt turn behind it. "Shit."

_That went well._

Careful to avoid the scope of the security camera aimed at the door, Veronica skirted its field and perched herself against the side of the building. As always, the windows of The River Stix were thickly blacked-out from the inside, but through a small chip in the paint, she could faintly make out the outline of Molly's form.

With her head collapsed forward into her hands, she was leaning against the front of the bar for support and shaking slightly.

_I can't believe I forgot to bring a bug. Stupid pregnancy brain is going to make my job 10 times harder._

Molly's shadow stalked off toward the back room, disappearing from her limited sight.

Veronica quickly alighted the window ledge of the building and took off for the narrow side alley, which circled around to the back entrance of the bar.

It wasn't her first time casing the place. She had been there once with Danny Boyd and a few times after that without being seen. She was there the day Molly placed the bugged, bright yellow truck on top of the bar to entrap her uncle for having her boyfriend killed.

_Who am I trying to entrap now?_

Crouching down just out of site near the slightly open rear door, Veronica tried to think about anything but the pressure building up in her bladder.

_This is the 10th time I've had to pee today and it's barely lunchtime._

Just as she was debating the risk/reward points of popping a squat in the nearest drainage pipe, a sharp voice pulled her from her thoughts.

"I am done letting you ruin my fucking life!" Molly's voice erupted from within the walls like a volcano, nearly shaking the foundation of the building with its might.

A low voice murmured unintelligibly in the background and the hair on the back of Veronica's neck stood at attention. The smooth baritone pulsed through her body with jagged edges, rubbing her raw and giving her a sense of unease.

"She doesn't know anything!" Molly insisted, as her cowboy boots clomped roughly against the long planks of wood in the back room, their heavy soles no doubt leaving marks that would blend in with the hundreds of other war wounds the floor had suffered over the years. "If she had proof, she would have had her dad haul my ass out of here by now."

_I really hope she's only talking about Connor's blackmail. Molly may be hard, but I have a difficult time believing she's capable of trying to have me killed._

Just as the mystery person began to answer, a bout of tinnitus took hold, debilitating the only surveillance device she'd brought along.

_Seriously? I can barely hear Mr. Whispers. A least Molly's loud. If she were a shrinking violet, I'd be totally screwed right now._

The voice said something that Molly seemed to find extremely humorous, but Veronica caught none of it due to the loud ringing in her ears. "Yeah. I think that's a long shot. Her baby daddy is a multimillionaire, so I doubt she needs the cash. Plus, that's not really her style. Despite what you may think, not everybody has a price, okay?"

Veronica was willing to bet that like her, Molly Fitzpatrick also wasn't for sale.

The heavy pacing stopped and something dropped, followed by the noisy thrush of chair legs screeching backward. "Look, you may just be forced to choose which payday you want more. Most people can't spear one white whale, much less two. We have something she wants, let's just give it to her and maybe she'll leave the other thing alone."

_Riiight...if there's anything I'm known for, it's leaving shit alone._

Veronica crept toward the small opening in the door and tried to peer inside, but could only catch the very edges of Molly's hair as it shook while she spoke. Everything in her wanted to sneak inside for a better look, but as she caught the sun glinting off of her engagement ring, she couldn't bring herself to do it.

_Last time I went in there without backup I almost became a walking advertisement for Lucky Charms. If Logan ever caught wind of me going in alone, I'd end up divorced before we even made it down the aisle._

The chair scraped the floor again, grabbing her attention.

"No. I'm not doing that, and I'm not letting you do that either," Molly informed the other party in a measured tone. "In case it slipped your mind, she's a Federal agent. Do you have a death wish or something?"

The muted laughter spewed forth like it came from underwater, and a shiver racked Veronica's body.

"Maybe I should have phrased that a different way..."

_Cigarette Smoking Man? Deep Throat? Kaiser__Söze__? Who are you?_

A wooden chair slapped the ground as Molly rose violently. "She's pregnant! I'm not doing that, and you're not doing that. Just let me take care of things for once, will you?"

_Will wonders never cease. Underneath all of the brass and acid, Molly Fitzpatrick has a good heart after all._

The door handle jiggled and Veronica scurried for better cover behind a half-full dumpster that smelled strongly of overly-sweet fermented hops, rancid cooking oil and old vomit.

_It's going to smell like fresh vomit in a few minutes if I don't get out of here._

Molly walked into the back alley carrying a small bag of garbage and slammed the door behind her. She chucked the refuse angrily against the fence next to the bin and then kicked the outside wall of the building hard. "Fuck!"

Molly's cries echoed throughout the alleyway.

_The guy who said 'When you're lucky enough to be Irish, you're lucky enough' clearly had the Fitzpatrick clan in mind when he coined the phrase._

"Why couldn't you have just stayed fucking dead?" She sniffed a few times and then opened the back door and walked through it, letting it bounce off of the turned deadbolt with a bang before shuddering still.

_Back from the dead? Am I on 'Days of Our Lives'?_

* * *

In the hands on a novice, El Camino Real had the potential to be a death trap. A death trap with a breath-taking view of sparkling aquamarine water dramatically crashing into the rocks that bordered it. With its narrow roads, winding their way up the precipice of a cliff, driving the Real provided an experience either spectacular or harrowing, depending on your fear of heights and your penchant for car sickness.

Sadly for him, Wallace's fear of heights was only matched by his penchant for car sickness.

"You okay there, snookums?" With both hands firmly on the wheel, Logan bent to the side and peered under Wallace's folded arms.

"Snookums?" Wallace tilted his head and them immediately buried it back into the nest of sweatshirts he created on the dashboard. "I'm already on the edge of puking, Logan, don't push me over it."

_Veronica wakes up to this every morning? No wonder she carries a gun everywhere._

"Renato."

"Huh?" One eye appeared through a gap in Wallace's arms.

"'_Renato_, don't push me over it.' We're going under cover, remember?"

A groan worked its way up from the depths of Wallace's gut. "You'll use just about any excuse to put your hand on my ass."

"Can you blame me? You've seen your ass." Logan looked entirely too chipper for a guy who had just driven nearly four hours without a break.

Logan's phone beeped again and he reached out his hand and signaled for Wallace to give it to him.

Wallace picked his head up, looking down at the silver-encased phone vibrating on the console. "You're fucked in the head if you think I'mma let you read a text while driving 70 miles an hour on the 101."

_Is he ever gonna cut out this reckless shit and grow up?_

"We're not on the 101 anymore, my good Wallace, we've just passed Santa Barbara, so we're close."

"Praise Jesus!"

_Why did I agree to do this, again? _

He looked over at Logan. His body was relaxed against the back of the chair, one hand casually fingering the textured, grey leather on the handle that hung just to the left of his head. There was a barely there smile on his lips, like he knew something damaging about you that he wasn't ready to share yet. And he was humming. Loudly. Despite the reason for the trip, he was finding enjoyment in it, which Wallace just did not understand.

_How can he be having fun when we're tracking down a chick who probably wants to mount his head on a RealDoll?_

"I think you mean, 'Praise Renato'. Unlike Carrie Underwood, I did not ask Jesus to take the wheel. It was all me." Logan turned his entire head to the right to face Wallace, which made the car lurch a little.

"Eyes on the road, man!" Wallace's hand instinctively found the handle on his side of the car and gripped it possessively. "I'm still not handing you the phone."

"Then by all means, read my personal text messages from my fiancee aloud," Logan said, lifting his hand off of the wheel to punctuate the thought with a flourished gesture.

_Is he doing this on purpose to fuck with me?_

Wallace leaned forward to grab the phone and clicked on the text icon. "It just says 'the sun is round...'" His forehead wrinkled at the message. "You guys into some weird sex code or something? You know what – forget I asked."

"Forgotten." Logan smiled broadly and started rapping out the drum beat to a song on the steering wheel with the only hand he was driving with.

_He's totally trying to fuck with me. If I show him it's working, he's only going to keep doing it. I'll keep it tight, even though all I want to do is curl up in a ball and cry my damn eyes out._

"What song is that?" Wallace casually tossed the phone back onto the console, and swallowed down the acid that was rising in his chest.

"Veronica."

_Of course it is._

Wallace's forehead wrinkled with a mixture of disgust and amusement. "I know you're like, obsessed with her and everything, but you wrote a song about her? That's just...what's the opposite of cool?"

Logan's eyes widened and an exaggerated gasp left his lips. "Wallace Fennel, apparently. You don't know who Elvis Costello is? Didn't you live with that band geek for four years? Nothing rubbed off?"

_Man, he did not just go there with me. He should know better by now._

Wallace's face was impassive, but his stiff back and balled up fists betrayed his reaction. He wasn't about to rise to the bait.

With a slight shake of the head, Logan released the overhead handle and dutifully placed both hands in the correct position on the wheel. "Sorry, man. It's not you. Just not a big fan of the Stosh."

"Yeah well, he ain't too big a fan of you either. You did work his face like a side of beef."

"I feel bad about that, actually. I mean, I'm sure I would've hated any guy who was putting his hands all over my girl." Logan's Adam's apple bobbed with a swallow.

"She wasn't your girl at the time."

Logan chuckled, and another secretive glint surfaced in his eyes. "She's been my girl since she was 15."

_Okay, I'll admit, this is kinda getting interesting now..._

"Weren't you dating her best friend, then?"

"This was right after Aaron...you know. She came over about a week after Lilly had died. Duncan was incommunicado, there was nobody else who got it." His Adam's apple bobbed again and he kept his gaze focused on the road.

_Did they...no. Veronica would of told me if she'd hooked up with him before he bullied her. He would of made it so much worse for her if he'd been with her._

Wallace tried to assure himself that she's never keep something this big a secret from him, but he knew better. Veronica was capable of keeping bigger secrets than that. He'd seen it first-hand. "You trying to tell me you had sex with Veronica after Lilly died?"

"No! No, of course not." Logan's spine tightened along with his grip on the steering wheel. "I mean, I probably would have, but no. She was a virgin, I didn't want her first time to be like that. Oh, the irony."

_Word._

"So, you didn't hook up with her?"

Logan shook his head, and his eyes glazed over with an emotion Wallace couldn't exactly place.

"Neither of us had slept in days. I was already drunk by the time she got over to my house – technically, I hadn't stopped being drunk since I'd gotten the news. Veronica showed up with a bottle of Peach Schnapps and drank a quarter of it while we watched South Park. I cried on her lap, she climbed into mine and held me. It was the best 90 seconds on my life."

A smile tugged at the corners of Logan's mouth, but the glazed look remained.

Wallace exhaled a low whistle. "The hug was that good, huh?"

"The hug was great, but that didn't matter. It was the first time anybody ever ever let me just cry in their arms. Aaron never...well, he was usually the reason I was crying. My mom was affectionate at times, but she was usually too tanked or feeling too guilty to comfort me when I really needed it. And Lilly...I always knew deep down she didn't love me. I mean, she tried and she came close, but I don't think she was really capable of loving anything but herself. Not truly."

_This boy has been dicked with more than Vee, and that's sayin' something._

"Harsh."

"It's analysis, not anger. It's been a decade already, I'm past it." Logan's jaw tensed a few times, then he let out a strong puff of air and his demeanor softened. "But Veronica was so gentle, and she was there just for me, to make me feel better, simply because she cared about me. I'm sorry you missed out on knowing that girl."

_You're sorry? You're part of the reason she turned into somebody else!_

A jolt of protectiveness shot through him. "She's still that girl. She still gives great hugs."

Logan nodded in agreement, but it was as weak as it was unconvincing. "Yeah, but she'll never look at me that way again."

He laughed to himself – or more _at_ himself – if Wallace had to guess.

"She's different, partly because of me, and she'll never be as open."

_I should be charging for this. Why is it I can barely get Veronica to tell me what's bothering her, and I can't get this guy to stop?_

Wallace knew then that Logan would always blame himself for what happened to Vee. Part of him was glad, thought he deserved to live with the guilt for the rest of his life, but the rest of him knew that no good could come of him constantly hanging onto it. It would hurt Veronica, more than help her.

"It happens to everybody, Echolls. Maybe not the way it happened to her or as fast, but everybody gets cynical with age. It's called growing up, man." His eyes settled on a tall redwood in the distance. He read somewhere that it grounded you to look at something stationary when you're feeling queasy.

"She made a comment when I called her earlier, made a crack about how she must have amnesia to marry me." He worried his bottom lip and he pulled off the highway and onto the exit ramp. "I know she didn't mean it, but she's not wrong. I mean, look at me now. What the hell am I doing here with you? I don't know why I thought I could keep this a secret from her - she's going to find out. It's what she does."

"Veronica's not just going to be mad at you. She'll be pissed at me, too. Just...try not to drag me down to hell with you."

"I'll do my best, but you know her...she's nothing if not egalitarian when she doles out her vengeance." Logan ran a hand through his hair and shook it out into a carefully arranged bedhead look.

It looked messier than before, but from living with Piz, Wallace had already learned this was the white boys' version of dreads.

"You ain't lying." He laughed for the first time since he'd stepped into the car.

Logan's mood lightened and the drumming started up again on the steering wheel. Wallace almost wished that introspective Logan would resurface, if only for the sake of their road safety.

"Ah well, as M. Kathleen Casey said, 'Pain is inevitable. Suffering is optional.' - clearly an option I've turned into an art form." Logan drummed out a rim shot at the end of his quip.

_Throw him a bone._

"Hey...who's to say she isn't happier now than she would've been?" Wallace turned his attention from the tree for a moment, to drive his point home. "Look how much she loves investigating things – can you imagine her _not _being a detective? Based on what everybody's told me, there's no way she would've started working with Keith if you hadn't run her out of town."

Logan smiled. "Well, it's a good thing she did break out of that Snow White mold, or I'd probably be rotting away in a cell somewhere, trading sexual favors for thimbles of toilet gin."

"Ain't no way she was Snow White. Mulan, maybe, but I don't buy this fairytale bullshit. You don't go from Bambi to badass. Her inner Mulan was always hanging out in there waiting to be released into the world, and thank God she was, or else my ass would probably still be taped to that flagpole."

"Yeah well, it's our kid who's going to suffer. I'm sure it's only a matter of time before Veronica figures out how to put a tracker into a pacifier." Logan turned onto a small country road paved with gravel, that expelled plumes of dust with every turn of the wheel. "That little jellybean isn't crawling very far on her watch."

"Hey! Over there." Wallace pointed to a small wooden sign on the side of the road that read '_L__iberté__ Hollow Farm_'.

Logan's eyes lit up as he grasped the hidden meaning of the sign. "Somebody has a sense of humor..."

The road grew impossibly narrower the further in they traveled. Palm fronds brushed up against the sides of Logan's truck like an automated car wash, and just when Wallace thought the road couldn't get any slimmer, it began to fan out again, like the top of an hourglass. In a place like this though, with no civilization around and a tenuous link to the outside world, time probably had a different meaning.

_This is some Indiana Jones shit._

Logan rubbed his fingertips up and down the sides of the steering wheel. "You don't think they like, lure little boys here with the promise of fine stationary, then kill them and turn them into gluten-free quiches, or whatever lesbians in the countryside like to make in bulk? Does human meat go well with Swiss chard?"

Wallace assessed Logan with a critical eye. "They'd probably kill you first. Just to get you to stop talking."

"Well, I am leaner." Logan's eyes fell to Wallace's stomach with an apologetic grimace.

"Everybody knows dark meat is tastier. Nobody wants your dried out white meat, man. Nobody." Wallace bristled with indignance.

Logan could barely contain his smirk. "Veronica quite likes my white meat."

"Just when the car sickness started to go away, you had to hit me with that. Uncool." His mouth pulled into a tight frown and he crossed his arms over his chest protectively.

"Oh, come on Albin," Logan reached over and rubbed one of Wallace's shoulders. "Don't be jealous. You'll always be my chocolate bunny."

His gaze followed Logan's hand back up to his body, and hovered threateningly, as heavy and as dangeous as hot lead. "Hell. No."

"Have it your way..." Logan sighed and removed his hand before turning on to the driveway of a large, Colonial-style home. "But by the time we get to that door, I expect nothing from you but adoring stares and heaving breaths. Your panties should be soaked through at the mere thought of me." He waggled his eyebrows at Wallace and put the car into park. "Let's roll, dude."

_What the hell have I gotten myself into?_

* * *

The sound of Alicia's car horn rang out from the other side of the bar. Veronica grabbed the bag of garbage before making her way back to safety.

Nearly tripping over her feet in the process, Veronica bolted through the alley toward the front parking lot. She let out a breath as she noticed the idling CRV very close by, and let her knuckles graze the driver's side window on her way to the rear of the vehicle. "Pop the trunk."

She shoved the bag under the car frame to hide it from site, but Alicia was too quick.

Alicia opened her door and tilted out of her car to get a better look. "You want to put a bag of garbage in my trunk?"

"I can put it in your backseat, but Lilly might object to the smell." Veronica tried to keep her tone light, but the wild look in her eyes betrayed her.

_Sure, try to play this off as completely normal behavior. She'll totally buy that._

"You're okay, right?" Alicia pushed the button to release the back hatch, keeping her eyes trained on her step-daughter.

"T_rès magnifique_ ." She loaded the bag into the vehicle and slammed the door shut, then ran around to the passenger's side door and hopped in. "You're not even bothering to ask anymore?"

"Nope." Alicia checked the rear view mirror as she backed out of the parking spot.

Stretching the seat belt across her chest, she stole a look at Alicia before clipping herself in. "I don't know if I should find this encouraging or demoralizing."

Her stepmother glared at her.

"Okay, so it's demoralizing then." Veronica felt a pang of guilt, but pushed it away as she busied herself looking for her phone.

She turned it on and began typing out a text to Weevil, before pausing. "Alicia, do you know what the legalities are for digging up a body?"

"You mean having a body exhumed?" Alicia turned the car on to the main road and clicked the autolock button for the doors.

Veronica opened her mouth to speak, then immediately closed it again and turned back to her phone.

"Forget it. I don't want to know."

_Clearly, she's never going out in public with me again._

"Fair enough..." Veronica finished typing her text.

_Hey Weevs, got a line on any good gravediggers in the area? Need one 4 2nite. _

As soon as she hit send, two text alerts popped up on her phone. The first one was from her father.

_DNA report back from break-in. Make sure you're sitting down before you call me._

_Okay. That's not...ominous or anything._

She scrolled down to the second one and a wave of relief washed over her.

_Is it all in that pretty little head of yours?__  
__What goes on in that place in the dark?__  
__Well I used to know a girl and I would have__  
__sworn that her name was Veronica_

"Something wrong?" Alicia asked, without taking her eyes from the road.

Veronica brought the phone to her forehead, scratching her skin with her diamond ring in the process. "Nope. It's just Logan." She closed her eyes and hummed softly to herself for a moment.

_If he's quoting Elvis Costello lyrics at me, he can't be too mad still._

Veronica quickly responded to the text and hit send.

_But she used to have a carefree mind of her own_  
_with devilish look in her eye_  
_Saying "You can call me anything you like,_  
_but my name is Veronica"_

The phone beeped once more before she could put it away.

_The sun is round...and Veronica Mars is the only one for me._

* * *

**A/N - I know there's not as much MaDi as promised, but this is a LoVe fic, so I can't really give them equal time if their storylines aren't equal, you know? I can keep my promise that there will be a satisfying end to their story. I'm a happy endings kinda gal.**

**However - you got a big reveal, right? Were Molly & Troy the Bonnie & Clyde of Neptune?**

******As always, my undying gratefulness to silverlining2k6, the best beta money can't buy.**

**I really missed hearing from all of you after the last chapter, so if you have the time to drop me some feedback, I'd really appreciate it. It honestly makes my day when I get those little alerts. Either way, thanks for reading!**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N – I know, I know. It's been way too long between chapters, but I got bitten by the crossover bug and couldn't stop myself. If you're interested, I have FOUR WIPs right now, 'Once Bitten' (the Teen Wolf/VM crossover – which you do not need to know TW to understand), my That 70's Show fic, 'The Morning After', and a series of VM AU one-shots called 'Through the Looking Glass'.**

**Because I'm crazy and took on too much, I've also been slacking with the comment responses. I promise I appreciate and read each and every one of them. I really do. It's just, with four WIPs, I've been a little under the gun. I really am trying to respond to everybody. Please don't stop leaving them, because I value your opinions, and they really do push me to buckle down and write.**

**FYI - There's some light smut in this chapter, nothing too graphic. **

**I'm making up for my long gap by giving you 28 pages this chapter – so hopefully that will get you all to forgive me :)**

* * *

Previously: Veronica went to the church graveyard and discovered the true identity of Molly's ex-boyfriend - Troy Vandergraff. She went to confront Molly about it at the bar, but she denied everything and tossed her out of her ass. Sensing that Molly looked frightened, Veronica sneaked into the back alley and eavesdropped on an argument between Molly and a mystery person, whom she was trying to convince not to kill Veronica. She also told him she wished that he 'stayed dead'. Mac and Dick grew closer, but still have not had sex. Mac admitted to him that she was nervous about her predicament, but made him promise not to get involved. He promised he wouldn't, but them proceeded to make plans to visit Clarence Wiedman. Logan and Wallace continued their trip up to Solvang to see the stationary artists, unaware that Keith and Veronica had just received the fingerprint results back to identify Logan's stalker.

* * *

The mess hall looked exactly the same as it had the day before. All evidence of an all-out brawl had been successfully erased, as if it had never happened. This didn't surprise Duncan. He knew from experience, that shit – even detestable, knee-buckling donkey crap - was easy to deal with if you had to endure it on a daily basis.

If you know somebody's going to dump a wheelbarrow filled with shit on the same street corner at 3pm every day, eventually you just start throwing a tarp down, because it makes the clean up process a whole lot easier. The prison staff treated fights in the cafeteria the same way - they just corralled the inmates and broke out the hose.

Making his way quickly through the food line, Duncan took his tray of slop and headed toward the table Hector steered him to the day before. He knew from the memoirs he read, that in most prisons, inmates had their own turf. And since he wasn't sure how the gang property lines had been gerrymandered, he thought it was probably a safe bet to just sit in exactly the same spot.

Turned out, he was right, because when he reached his old chair it was free, as if waiting for him. Duncan looked forlornly at the empty chair across the table from him and wondered where his bodyguard had run off to and when he'd be back.

_If he's even coming back._

He hadn't seen his roommate since yesterday, when he was hauled off by a refrigerator-sized guard after the big brawl. All of the prisoners had been forced back into their cells for the reminder of the day. While he felt relatively safe locked up behind reinforced steel, being out in the open like this now, exposed to the elements without a social sherpa, was petrifying.

He told himself he was being crazy. Reminded himself that Logan would be brazenly smirking his way through lunch, using his eyes to practically dare the other prisoners to fuck with him.

_Logan also has no regard for his own safety and would probably get himself killed in prison. Not exactly my objective._

He tried to pull off the ultimate jackass expression, but quickly gave it up, realizing it probably made him look more constipated than badass. Logan was out.

As distasteful as he found it, it was time to mine some of the more disturbing qualities from the senior Echolls. In the movie _'Spoiled Rotten',_ Aaron played a sociopath gigolo who preyed on wealthy, older ladies in Palm Beach. His character was as cold and calculating as he was remorseless. He also flashed his ass a lot. It was probably the closest he had ever come to playing himself onscreen. Duncan figured if it was good enough to scare the crap out of him as a ten year old, it might be almost good enough to screw with the inmates now.

Fortunately for Duncan (or unfortunately, depending how you looked at it), aping the cold, detached gaze of a sociopath, wasn't too hard for him to accomplish. In high school, the psychotropic drugs he took pushed him toward the edge of that line. It was easy to appear like he didn't give a shit about anyone or anything when he was numbed out. Veronica thought he didn't care – but he cared too much – which was why he had to dull the pain.

Turned out, his Aaron Echolls invocation had perfect timing, since when he lifted his eyes from the greyish mound of not!meat the center of his tray, he found himself staring directly into the eyes of the one man alive whom he hated most in this world, the one person whom he would rather die before showing any weakness in front of.

_This is not happening. Don't they have any other prisons in Neptune? Fuck you, fate! Fuck!_

Duncan's heart beat out of his chest, but he refused to be the first one to look away. He would not flinch. Unfortunately for him, Stewart Manning wasn't the type to back down either, so they remained deadlocked in a stare that seemed to last well over a month.

Manning looked older - much older - and unkempt, like a widower who had no children around to keep him hygienic. The past few years of were etched deeply into his craggy face, and his wild, greasy hair was as feral as the look in his eyes. Which was very.

_Oh God, he's coming over here. If he comes any closer, I'm going to end up in solitary. I might actually kill him with my bare hands._

_Meg, if you're up there...help me out._

_What am I talking about, of course she's up there, where else would she be?_

"It's nice to see justice is finally being served...though I'm hoping it won't be too long until you're condemned to suffer an eternal justice for what you've done." Stewart brushed his hand along the edge of Duncan's table, close enough to be threatening, but just far enough away not to draw attention.

_No hard feelings then, eh? _

"Still have that winning personality, I see," Duncan muttered under his breath. "Too bad your granddaughter will never get to know it."

_I've never wanted to punch a guy more in my life. Solitary would totally be worth it._

Stewart closed his eyes and held an outstretched palm in the air, as if blessing him. "And if anyone causes one of these little ones who believe in me to sin, it would be better for him to be thrown into the sea with a large millstone tied around his neck!"

_Shit. Was that just a veiled threat aimed at Lilly or me?_

Duncan's hands gripped the plastic arms of his chair as he tried to keep his cool. Stewart was trying to goad him. Seeing as both Echolls men were always pretty easy to goad into violence, he couldn't model his response on either of them. He needed somebody with a stronger will.

_Keith Mars always knew how to lock his shit down. I don't think I ever saw him lose it the entire time I dated Veronica. What would Keith do?_

"If your hand causes you to sin, cut it off. It is better for you to enter life maimed than with two hands to go into hell, where the fire never goes out!" Stewart slammed his hand down on the tabletop as he punctuated each point. His voice grew louder and huskier as he circled Duncan's table.

Other inmates began to notice the spectacle. Some shook their heads, some laughed, not one glanced his way longer than a second. This was old hat for them, and sticking your nose in somebody else's business in prison meant you risked it getting lopped off.

"And if your foot causes you to sin, cut it off. It is better for you to enter life crippled than to have two feet and be thrown into hell. And if your eye causes you to sin, pluck it out!" Both of Stewart's hands crashed into the table next to Duncan's chair, causing Duncan to internally recoil at the volume of the collision.

"Listen up, old man," Duncan growled deeply, barely even recognizing the tenor of his own voice. "Fucking walk away now before I break your God damn legs!"

Like his mother, Duncan was an expert as using his ice blue eyes as a deadly weapon. He leveled his glare at Stewart, but instead of finding the crone cowering before him, he was met with a six foot inferno sporting a cruel smirk. Waves of hatred and rage rolled off of him like slow-flowing lava.

Duncan struggled to control his patience. It wasn't often he lost his temper, but once he did, he was always hard-pressed to reign it back in again.

Unwilling to back off, Stewart wedged himself in-between Duncan and the table, just a few inches shy of Duncan's face. "It is better for you to enter the kingdom of God with one eye than to have two eyes and be thrown into hell, where 'their worm does not die, and the fire is not quenched.' Everyone will be salted with fire!"

With lightening speed, Duncan grabbed Stewart by the lapel of his jumpsuit and tugged down hard, slamming the old man's face into the table with a crunch.

_Sorry, Keith, but I did warn him!_

Cheers and erupted from the throngs of cholo prisoners eating nearby, which were soon joined by cat calls from the skinheads across the aisle. Even some of the guards joined in on the mockery.

"Faith is better off dead than having her soul corrupted by a heathen like you," Stewart snarled.

"Her name is Lilly!" Twisting the collar of Stewart's jumpsuit until it constricted his throat, Duncan yanked Stewart's bloodied face into view and dragged him to his feet, inflicting him with a gaze so acrid it could dissolve glass. "You listen to me asshole. If you so much as look at me again, I will end you! And if I ever hear my daughter's name on your lips again, I will slice your fucking throat! Do you understand me?"

Stewart's response to Duncan's alpha showing was to laugh – guffaw even – as blood trailed slowly out of both of his nostrils.

"And He said, 'Let my eyes run down with tears night and day, and let them not cease, for the virgin daughter of my people is shattered with a great wound, with a very grievous blow'!"

_I did shatter Meg. I did wound her, he's not wrong there, but God, what a fuckhead!_

As Duncan's rage began to percolate once again, Hector slid into the chair opposite him, and unceremoniously dropped his tray on the table with a distracting clatter.

Stewart pulled out of Duncan's grasp and scurried off, leaving a dotted trail of blood behind him.

_Thank God. Keep walking so I don't get up and kill you. _

_I'll probably end up with 20 years if I run into him again._

Duncan watched Manning disappear around the corner and released the breath he was holding. His hands were shaking and covered in the other man's blood. He felt like a savage. He just hoped the others in the prison were beginning to see him that way.

The panic coursing through Duncan's veins momentarily abated and he turned his attention to his hired hand. "Where the hell were you?"

Hector picked up his spork and casually began cutting his chicken friend steak into smaller chunks with the side of the utensil. "Solitary, bro. Whenever shit goes down, they always round up the usual suspects."

"Did you see Liam in there?"

Both frowning and smiling at the same time, Hector shook his head. "It's called solitary for a reason, boss."

_Right. I'm not so quick on the uptake at the moment._

Duncan rubbed a hand over his tired face and exhaled roughly. "Sorry, I'm just a little - I just have this feeling...like something bad is going to happen, you know?"

"You're in the joint, get used to it. You don't feel like that, you're dead in a week." Hector coated a piece of the steak with mashed potatoes and lifted it to his mouth. "Bad shit goes down all the time in here. You're in prison, boss, not the VA."

Duncan glanced at the corner that Stewart had disappeared behind, but instead of relief, he just felt unsettled.

Noticing the change in his bunkmate's mood, Hector turned to see what the trigger was. "Who's that old culo?"

"Oh, you know...he's only the reason I'm in here." The muscles in both of Duncan's hands began to cramp badly from holding them in tight fists for so long. He stretched them out and flexed them together.

_He's also the reason his wife is dead, his youngest kid has health problems and middle daughter ran away from home. _

Hector raised his eyebrows in surprise. "That old fuck?"

"My ex - you know, my daughter's mother – that's her dad. He's the one who filed the kidnapping charges against me, tried to keep me from Lilly."

"Ah." Hector ran his index finger through one of the small droplets of blood on their table and held his finger up to show Duncan. "I could arrange for him to have an accident. An old man like that, I'd bet his bones would break pretty easy if he, let's say...fell down in the shower or something. Wouldn't cost you much. Hell, I might even find a volunteer to do it for free, if he's as much of a prick as you say. It ain't ever bad to have a rich dude owe you a favor."

_If you only knew how much I'd love to volunteer for that job myself. But there's Lilly...gotta just keep my head down and stay out of trouble until I get out._

Duncan couldn't help but consider the offer seriously. Stuart Manning had undoubtedly ruined his life. He cost him his family, his high school diploma, his relationship with Veronica, and his identity. And all for what - just so he could have another young mind to warp with his sickness? A broken leg wouldn't remotely make up for all of that.

"I'll think about it. Thanks, Hector."

"Always remember..." Wiping Stewart's blood off on his pants, Hector waggled his eyebrows at Duncan. "I play for pay, rich boy."

Johnson, the friendly guard who was assigned to Duncan's block the night before, strolled by the table and wordlessly slipped a note under his tray and kept walking.

An amused smile tugged at Hector's lips. "Already making some friends, I see."

"Can't have too many friends." Duncan returned Hector's look and opened the note.

_D - _

_I heard what happened in the mess hall yesterday. _

_The warden told me you were fine, _

_but I'm coming by to check for myself. _

_Hang in there._

_C_

A warm feeling settled in the pit of Duncan's stomach and he smiled.

"Good news?" Hector stabbed a piece of meat and dragged it through the beige, gelatinous-looking gravy.

"Best news I've had all morning." He folded the note back up and slid it into the waistband of his pants.

* * *

Trailed by her now-constant entourage, Veronica dug furiously through her handbag just outside of the door to her office. "Sorry! I know I'm a little bit of a hot mess right now, it's just I can't seem to remember where anything is."

Alicia reached across and grabbed the set of keys which were hooked on Veronica's finger and handed them to her. "It's baby brain. All the blood in your body is rushing to your belly."

"Really?"

"Not really," Alicia laughed. "Well, the baby brain thing is real. I made up the other stuff."

Closing her eyes, Veronica brought the keys to her forehead and let out an exasperated breath. "I'm turning into one of those people who can't find their glasses when they're sitting on top of their head."

Veronica slipped the key into the lock, only to discover it already open.

_I can't even manage to do menial tasks, like opening a door now? What the fuck?_

She walked through the doorway of Mars Investigations and was greeted by the sight of Weevil sitting in her chair with his feet up on her desk.

"Something wrong with _your_ desk, Navarro?"

They both looked at his desk, which was covered almost entirely with case files.

"Yours has a better feng shui." He pulled his feet down and rested his elbows on his knees before offering up a smile. "Hey Alicia! How's it hangin'?"

Alicia gestured to Veronica. "Working for the man. You know how it goes."

"She got you running around in circles now, too? Girl comes back after five years, she thinks she owns the joint." Weevil winked at Veronica and she stuck her tongue back out at him.

Alicia shook her keys. "Driving around in circles, actually. Have you eaten yet, Eli? I'm determined to put something healthy into Veronica if I have to tranq her first."

"Keith really has a type, huh? Nah, I'm good, thanks. I'm actually on my way out."

"You're going to tranquilize me to get me to eat protein?" Veronica's mouth opened in amused shock.

"..and vegetables, too, if I have to. Yes." Alicia pulled her scarf tightly around her neck and double-checked Lilly's jacket, which had been buttoned entirely askew. "Maybe if she's out long enough, she'll be able to keep the food down this time."

Veronica glared at her step-mother from across the room.

_Alicia! You and your big mouth!_

Weevil's eyebrows met his hairline, and his mouth contorted like he'd just bitten into a bad oyster, as he inferred a bigger meaning from the one-two of Alicia's words and Veronica's reaction. "Oh, hell no."

Veronica rolled her shoulders to release the tension. "Guess that saves me the trouble of having a personal life."

"I didn't mean to..." Alicia's face was pained from guilt. She backed toward the door surreptitiously, stopping only to grab Lilly's arm to pull her along.

"Yeah, you'd better run." Veronica snapped.

Alicia's hand was already on the doorknob and she shot her an apologetic grimace.

"I don't want to leave, I want to go see Weevil!" Lilly broke free from Alicia's grip and clamored onto Weevil's lap unasked, causing him to buckle over from the force of her pounce.

"Easy there, chica." He ruffled her hair, which she immediately fixed, shooting him a disgruntled look.

"I changed my mind." Lilly hopped off of his lap and ran back to the door. "I'll just get my information from the other detective. The one who doesn't mess up my hair." She pointed at Veronica, who crooked her finger at the girl.

Lilly threw her arms around her godmother's waist. "He totally just did rule number two. Can you at least tell me rule number 3 to make me feel better?"

_Oh, the manipulation._

"Occam's Razor. You can ask Alicia to explain that one to you." Veronica turned Lilly toward Alicia by her shoulders and gave her a little push. "Don't forget my chocolate milkshake, mommy...and hold the veggies."

Alicia mouthed 'I'm sorry' and quickly left the building with the little girl.

_Yeah, you'd better be sorry, because this was SO not the conversation I felt like having today._

Veronica sat on the edge of her desk and stared at Weevil, playing a game of eye-chicken.

"You have got to be kidding me." He rubbed both palms over his face roughly and let out a beleaguered sigh.

"Afraid not." She shrugged her shoulders.

"Am I to assume this was unplanned?"

Her expression turned hard. "You can assume whatever the hell you'd like to, Weevil, since it's none of your damn business."

"Yeah, sorry." His brows knit together in concern. "But you're keeping it?"

_Does he seriously think I'd get rid of Logan's baby? It's not like he's some guy I picked up at an Usher concert. This is Logan! I'm in love with him._

"It's Logan's baby. What do you think?" Veronica looked around the room, as if she were playing to an audience. "Yes, I'm keeping the baby, okay?"

"Yeah. That's...cool," he said, unconvincingly. "And you're—healthy? You know...after."

_After the explosion or the abduction?_

"They think I'm eight weeks along or so." Veronica let out the breath she'd been holding and ran a hand over her non-existent bump. "The doctor didn't seem too concerned about the smoke exposure, but the vertigo I get sometimes is not exactly making the morning sickness easier. Going to a doctor's appointment later today. First sonogram."

_Why is this more excrutiating than telling my dad?_

"And Richie Rich...he's okay with it?"

_Ah yes. I remember now. My dad doesn't want to put Logan's face through a window._

Veronica snorted and her face broke into a smile. "Logan's practically lactating with excitement. Seriously, Weavs, I think he's already hired a night nurse and is test-wearing baby slings."

Weevil covered his mouth to muffle the laughter. "Oh God. He is so so fucked. Man, I hope you have a girl, just so my son can date her and drive his ass crazy. Can you imagine his face?" He slapped his jeans-covered knee with glee. "It'd almost be worth me knocking some chick up just to see what he'd do."

_That actually would be almost worth it._

"West Side Story 2: Electric Boogaloo." Veronica drolly rolled her eyes. "Glad my womb could provide you with so much entertainment."

Weevil leaned forward and grabbed her knees. "Congratulations, Vee. You're gonna be a great mom. You know that, right?"

She leaned forward and gave him a strong hug. "Please tell me that wasn't sarcasm."

"Fuck no!" He rubbed a hand on her back. "Who else is gonna have a mom who can dig up dirt on every bully who steals their lunch money and those douchebag teachers who've got it in for them? Between your evil brain and Echolls's...evil brain, that baby has it made in the shade, girl. Even I'm a little jealous."

She shook with laughter in his arms and released him from her grip. "No, you're not."

He shook his head. "Not even a little bit, but only 'cause if I had a dad who took longer getting ready than my mom, I wouldn't be able to show my face at church."

_Like Logan would ever go to church willingly._

Veronica climbed out of Weevil's lap and ran her finger along the edge of his desk. "About church..."

Weevil crossed his arms. His pose, along with the bald head, gave him the air of a pissed off Buddha. "Yeah...about that. Are you out of your mind?"

_After all this time, you have to ask?_

"Clearly. But could you be more specific?"

His face remained immobile, unimpressed. "That text you sent me before. Do I look like a grave-robber to you?"

Veronica dodged his condemning look by straightening up the papers on his desk. "We're not robbing the grave, we're just digging it up to see if there's a body inside. Totally different thing."

_Equally as disgusting, but technically different._

He opened his mouth to say something, then quickly changed his mind, choosing to stare intently at his weathered hands instead.

"What?"

He cracked a smile. "You are fucked in the head. You know that, right?"

"I'm hearing a 'maybe'..." Veronica's face was tilted a steady 45 degrees to the left and full of hope.

Weevil stood up while choking back a laugh. "You're getting a 'maybe' from that? I'm saying no. Call the medical examiner or go back and talk to the priest who did his last rites. Or sit on your hands and wait for me to get the goods out of Molly. You may be an ass-kicking blonde, but this ain't 'Buffy the Vampire Slayer'."

_He does have a point about that medical examiner. I'd like to find out just how Troy died._

He walked briskly toward the coat rack, pulling his leather jacket down from the first peg.

"Buffy? That lightweight? Sheesh!" Veronica followed him to the door and grabbed the edge of his coat, preventing him from donning it. "But Weav - I'll bet you look really sexy in a leather duster..."

_Okay, so flattery is the bottom of the barrel as far as my persuasion techniques are concerned, but I'm desperate here._

Weevil looked at her with an amused disdain. "I do, but that's besides the point. Anyway, I'm busy." He slipped his arms into the jacket and zipped it shut, almost clipping her fingers in the process. "Go work your little routine on Echolls. He has more experience diggin' himself a hole than I do anyway."

_Yeah, not exactly something I can ask Logan to help with._

"Come on, Weevil!" With hands on her hips, Veronica groaned an irritated huff. "What the hell are you doing now, anyway?"

Weevil's hand froze on the doorknob and he cocked his head in her direction without turning. "You happen to catch a those bruises on Molly's neck when you were there?"

She nodded her head slowly, knowing exactly where this was headed. "I did."

With his mouth twisted in anger, Weevil echoed her nod. "That's what I'm going to be doing."

Veronica grabbed the sleeve of his jacket just as he turned the knob. "Just, don't get arrested, okay? I'm not big enough to go after all of those bounties myself."

"I don't know, you could always annoy the bail jumpers into turning themselves in." His face softened as her hand closed tightly around his forearm. "Don't worry about it, Vee, I've got an in with the sheriff's office. I'll be fine."

_That's right. It's still weird living in Neptune with dad being sheriff again. I forgot the Mars family now has clout!_

Reluctantly, Veronica released his arm. "Be careful. I'll see you tomorrow, Spike."

"Right back atcha, luv." She caught him wink before her walked through the door, and as it began to shut, she heard him call out. "Don't do anything stupid, like you usually do."

_I'd pay money to get people to stop saying that to me._

"Jefe!" Instead of shutting the door behind him, Weevil held the door open for Keith Mars to walk in. "I gotta run, but let's grab a beer this week, Keith."

"You got it." Keith waved his fingers loosely at Weevil's retreating figure. "Anywhere special in mind, Eli? Maybe an Irish pub?"

Weevil flipped Keith off behind his back as he kept walking down the hallway.

"What are you doing here?" Veronica enveloped her dad in a hug.

Keith wrapped his arms around Veronica and kissed her hair. "I can't drop in on my beloved daughter unannounced and with absolutely no agenda whatsoever?"

"I feel like you want me to say yes?"

"I didn't come to see you, anyway." Keith bent down and kissed Veronica's belly. "Hey kiddo!"

_Okay, even I can admit that's pretty freaking adorable._

"I see how it is now. _Everybody_ likes a baby. I'm old news." She pouted out her bottom lip dramatically.

"Tiny is in, what can I say?" He shrugged and rubbed her stomach once before leading her over to her desk, where he sat and expectantly held her stare. "So...I can't believe I'm about to say this, but which life changing piece of information would you care to address first?"

Veronica burst out laughing so hard her eyes watered.

_My stalker? Logan's stalker? The person trying to kill you? The Troy Vandergraff stuff? My secret engagement? My unplanned pregnancy? The files on Leo's hard drive? There aren't enough hours in the day..._

"How is this amusing?" He crossed his arms and gave her 'the look'.

"Dad, I literally have no idea what you're talking about, because I have a least five or more life-changing events happening as we speak." She wiped a rogue tear that managed to make a break for it. "For the record, that was ironic laughter."

"With you, is there any other kind?" Keith let the question hang in the air for a moment while he pinched the skin between his eyes with his fingers. "All things considered, I think we should talk about Logan first. I assume you got my text with the fingerprint results. How would you like to proceed?"

"After everything she's done..." Veronica's chest tightened and her skin grew hot with anger as she thought about the implications of revealing the identity of Logan's stalker to him. "Would you want to know? Wouldn't he just be happier - - never knowing at all?"

"Veronica," Keith said, using his authoritative voice, "we're telling him. It's not your job to make that decision for him, it's your job to support him through the news."

"But – you don't understand what he's like, dad, this will kill him." Tears welled in her eyes and she involuntarily laughed at her new-found sensitivity. First she's crying over something funny, now she's crying over something sad? "Holy crap, these hormones."

_Seven more months of this insanity? I just -cant._

"You're telling me?" Keith stood up and held the sides of her head in his hands. "Hey. Logan has you. He has this baby," he said, glancing down at her stomach. "It's not like when he was 19, with that Norman character from Vanity Fair pulling one over on him..."

_Great. I wasn't even thinking about that until you just brought it up!_

Veronica's breath caught painfully in her rib cage, weighing down her already heavy lungs. "It's exactly like that! Dad, just listen to me-"

"I know you're scared this is going to change things between the two of you-"

"Of course it will. How could it not?" She buried her face in her hands and let out a primal scream. "What if – I don't know – he goes off the rails again and I can't stop him. I don't – how am I supposed to do this? How do I know if I'm saying or doing the right thing for him?"

_What if decides to take another trip to the Coronado Bridge with his favorite flask? I can't..._

Keith pulled Veronica into a bear hug and wrapped his arms tightly over both of hers to calm her down. As the pressure of the hug increased, she felt the muscles in her body begin to give and she started to relax.

"You're not alone in supporting him. He also has us – Alicia, me, Darrell, Wallace – that's five and a half people who have his back. Six, if you count that strange Casablancas fellow."

"Dick is only half a man?" A smile peeked out from under her father's arms. "Ahh, you know me so well."

"If I can't make you crack a smile after 25 years, what am I doing with my life?" He threw his hands up.

Veronica grabbed onto her father's shirt collar and beamed at him. "You know you're like, the best dad in the history of ever, right?"

Keith pretended to contemplate her claim. "Better than Ryan O'Neill?"

"Well, you didn't get me hooked on coke at the age of ten, so..." She brought her fingers together to signify a small amount, and squinted her eyes to indicate the minute space in-between them. "He's a little bit better, bur you're still in the same range as Joe Jackson and Brian Wilson."

"You're going to make me cocky if you keep this up." Keith threw an arm over her shoulder. "So, speaking of these monster dads, do you think any of _their_ children got engaged without mentioning it?"

She hadn't seen him look at her like that since the last time she got busted for staying out past curfew.

_Fuckity fuck fuck! Sure. That went exactly how I wanted it to go._

Veronica's eyes flicked to her left hand, which was still floating aimlessly in the air in front of her father's face.

She cleared her throat. "Uh, if I had to hazard a guess...probably all of them?"

* * *

It had been years since Weevil had given a beat down like the one he just gave that mick bastard who messed with Molly. He wasn't totally out of practice, having thrown down with a couple of bail-jumpers in the past. Those fights ended usually ended quickly though, since he frequently took care of those guys with a quick tase and some pepper spray. But a balls-out brawl? Yeah, it had been a while.

He let the door slam shut behind him as he entered his apartment. Not bothering to lock it, he continued his path through the front door and walked directly to his liquor cabinet, where he pulled out a bottle of Jack reserve and a glass. To avoid further tearing the skin over his already raw knuckles, he uncorked the bottle with his teeth and poured himself a shot.

The liquid burned as it spilled over the lip of the glass and onto his broken skin. Gradations of blue and purple dusted the backs of his hands, speckling over the tips of each knuckle that were split like overripe grapes.

Even during his worst fights in high school, his hands never looked this busted. Maybe his skin was tougher back then, since the fights happened almost daily? Maybe it was just because he'd never beaten the crap out of a guy like it was his purpose in life?

The whole time he was wailing on the old man, the only time he could think straight was when his fists landed their target. It was the only thing that pushed away the image of Cillian squeezing the life out of Molly's alabaster neck, wringing it so hard he'd nearly broken it.

_If I didn't already have one strike, I woulda torn that motherfucker apart for touching her like that._

Weevil remembered meeting Molly's eyes as she keeled over and nearly passed out. Even as she faced her own mortality, she seemed more pissed off than scared. She was defiant.

Hearing the familiar click of his front door being opened, he took a deep breath and braced himself. It wasn't like he didn't expect this to happen eventually, but she was practically setting a new land-speed record.

_She's letting herself into my house now? Girl is as bad as Veronica. _

He didn't turn around, but could still feel the weight of her stare bearing down on his back like a pro wrestler. Figuring she would make her presence known when she felt like it, he poured another drink out, lifted the glass to his lips and downed half the shot.

"Isn't it a bit early for you to be drinking?" Her voice sounded huskier than usual, and if she were anybody but her, he would almost assume she'd been crying.

"Thought early drinkers were your bread and butter." Weevil tipped his head back and drank the other half, then slammed the glass down on the counter harder than he'd meant to, nearly cracking cup and the thin veneer of wood beneath it. His eyes squinted at the impact. "Plenty of people drink in the afternoon, Molly."

"You don't," she said, the front door slamming shut behind her. "At least, you didn't when I knew you."

_She remembers a lot for a girl who always claimed she wasn't paying attention._

"What are you doing here?" It was a pointless question, but it bought him a few more seconds of time before he had to look her in the eyes.

"You know why I'm here."

At turns, Molly could be both vulnerable and hard, and the times when she appeared one way, Weevil found it almost impossible to imagine her being the other.

_Those green eyes kill me, man._

He pulled down another shot glass from the shelf in the cabinet and brought it to her, along with the bottle, and gestured with his head for her to sit on the couch. "Kick off your boots and stay a while."

"I don't feel much like sitting," Molly said, less confidently than she had sounded only a minute before. Her eyes darted around the room, taking in the décor. "This isn't what I expected it to look like."

"Yeah?" Weevil's head rotated to look at what she was seeing. "You expecting a broken down low rider in the middle of my living room with a pinata tied to the front as a hood ornament?"

"You're an idiot." She licked her lips and bit back a smile. "I just figured it would look more like a single guy lived here. This place has a woman's touch."

_It did have a woman's touch, until she dropped my ass._

"Thought bartenders were only good at reading people."

"I'm more than a bartender." Molly shrugged. "Besides, you own a vase, Eli. I don't know one straight guy who owns a vase who doesn't live with a woman. I'll take that drink now."

She let the topic drop like his answers would only be incidental, because they were. He liked that about her. After hearing people's sob stories day in and day out, she could probably write the ending to anybody's book.

Weevil placed both glasses down on a side table and filled them both in one sloppy splash of the bottle that leaked over the edges and down the leg of the furniture.

She cocked an eyebrow at him. "Wow. You'd make a crap bartender."

"Then it's a good thing I don't work for you, blanca." He brought the glass over to her, his bloody knuckles brushing up against her hand as he passed her the glass. It left a smudge of red behind that her eyes fell to immediately.

Molly's breath caught loudly in her chest at the sight of his blood on her fingers. "Eli..."

_There's no way I'm getting into this with her now. The guy had it coming. I don't give a shit if she wanted to deal with it herself. A girl like her shouldn't have to._

"How'd you make it over here so fast, Molly?" Best defense is a good offense. "You were following me?"

"You know I was, so what's the point in asking?"

"Why?"

She drank the shot and her eyes pinched close at the burn. Weevil poured her another one, just as carelessly as the first. The look of admonishment on her face as she shook the whiskey off of her fingers made his stomach twist.

"You're a PI. Why do people normally hire you to follow people?"

_I see how it is. She's gonna make me do the work._

He shrugged and leaned against the wall, cradling the bottle of Jack against his chest. "You think I'm up to something, eh?"

"What am I supposed to think, huh? You come to my place after years of pretending I didn't exist, you listened to my problems, seemed like you cared -"

His features became tense. "I do care."

"-you saved my life...and now you go and beat the crap out of some guy to defend my honor? It just – it makes no sense." She shook her head at the floor, then blindly grabbed for the bottle and took a swig out of it directly, placing her empty glass by her feet on the floor. "Why are you doing this? Why now?"

_Fuck. What am I supposed to say? Veronica Mars asked me to bang you for information, and I've always secretly wanted to, so I said yes?_

Weevil's jaw was clenched painfully tight as he tried to gauge the right thing to say. "It's not obvious?"

"I know there's always been this _thing_ between us...and when you walked into the bar with Mars, it was still there." Molly lifted her chin and met his gaze. "But, come on. Everybody always wants something from you...even if they're not talking about it."

_I can't count on both hands the things I want from you, girl._

He took a step closer to her and grabbed the bottle from her hands, then took a swig. "And what do you think I want?"

"I'm still trying to figure that out," Molly admitted in earnest, then reached out and wiped a droplet of whiskey from Weevil's chin with her thumb.

He struggled to keep himself from holding her hand there.

_If she doesn't move her fingers fast, I'm gonna lick them._

This may have turned out to be more than a job, but it was still a job. Veronica didn't just ask him to get close to Molly for shits and giggles. There was a lot of money on the line from this client, not to mention the remaining possibility that Molly was somehow connected to the car bomb. The odds were even that there was something far more dangerous about her than her curves.

"Who was the guy on the phone threatening you the other night?"

She squirmed against the wood paneling and tried to reach for the bottle again, but Weevil held on to it tightly. "I need another drink."

He leaned in and watched her sink back into the wall. "You're still gonna be up Shit Creek after another drink."

His glare was hot, and Molly averted her eyes to avoid the sting. "Yeah, but the ride won't feel so bumpy." A throaty chuckle that sounded more like a sob erupted from her chest.

_She's fucked. I know she is. Somebody's got her on the rack. It's written all over her face._

He placed the bottle on the floor and inched closer, only stopping when the tops of their thighs touched. Bracing his arms on the wall on either side of her head, he drew so near to her that he could feel her breath tickling his face. "You can trust me."

She focused hard on a spot on the wall, just beyond his head. "Maybe I'm just trying to keep you out of an already bad situation?"

He refused to let her escape his line of vision no mater which way she angled. "Maybe I'm already in it?"

Molly's head tipped back and hit the wall with a hollow thud. "Look, I can't control my situation, Eli. The best thing you can do, is just stay the fuck out of the way and pray for me that it ends quickly."

He barked out a small laugh. "Like that's gonna happen."

_There's no way in hell she's dealing with this by herself. If it's as bad as I think it is, she's gonna end up dead in a gutter somewhere if I don't step in. _

"I make my own decisions, okay?" Her eyes flashed with anger, making his dick jump.

_Fuck me._

Molly's angry face was turning him on, but he had to control himself. She needed his hand right now, not his cock, but seeing as she wasn't the type to take handouts or owe people favors, this wouldn't be easy.

Weevil grabbed her chin with his right hand and turned her face into his. "Let. Me. Protect. You."

"You can't..." Molly continued focusing on the wall, her face barely showing a trace of weakness, but the rapid rise and fall of her chest betrayed her fragile emotional state.

He leaned in ever further, brushing his stubble against the velvet skin of her cheek as his mouth ghosted the ridge of her ear. "I can and I will."

He felt her shudder against him and then swallow hard. "Why would you do that?"

For a moment, Weevil was thrown for a loop. She couldn't tell how he felt? Did he even feel something beyond wanting to fuck her? Maybe it was just that being with her reminded him of Felix?

"I uh - I mean...you were Felix's girl, and I..."

_No. That ain't it. I fucking like her. I more than like her. _

Whenever his mind started to drift this week, his thoughts had gone directly to her. He hadn't been able to stop thinking about the way her hands tightened around his waist as they rode his bike, fisting the material on the sides of his shirt under his leather jacket. Or the way her thighs peeked out of the hem of her dress every time she was forced to reach for a bottle on a high shelf at her bar.

He sure as hell wasn't thinking of his best friend then. In fact, he was trying his damnedest not to think of Felix whenever he was with her.

_How the hell did I get myself into this?_

Molly's face fell for a split-second before a polite smile appeared. "Right. I appreciate the sentiment, Eli, but I've been taking care of myself my whole life, so I've got it." She tried to stand up straight, but he held her against the wall by her shoulders.

"Shit. Molly...don't."

She shook her head and struggled to emerge from the cocoon of his arms, but he kept her pinned there. "I've gotta get back."

"Listen, I _want _to protect you. Okay?" He dipped his head low to look in her eyes and she stopped thrashing.

"You do?" she asked, almost too softly for him to hear.

_How could I not? Look at you._

Weevil worked his jaw for a moment and then nodded his head. "Yeah."

Her body was tense. Fear and suspicion lurked underneath a whole lot of something he couldn't identify. Was it lust? He hoped to God it was.

Molly worried her bottom lip for a moment and then released it. "For Felix?"

He pressed their foreheads together, his entire body now head-to-toe flush with hers. "No. Not for Felix."

She smiled against his cheek and his pulse began to quicken. "Good to know."

_Very fucking good to know._

"Is it, now?" Weevil pulled back to look at her face. With her bottom lip slightly quivering and her pupils blown out, he couldn't resist the pull between them anymore.

He turned his head and caught her lips with his, and then the universe opened up and swallowed them whole. At least that's what it felt like to him.

Weevil's hands gripped the sides of her face a little too hard as their bodies slammed together and crashed against the wall. Their kiss was almost violent, a mass of teeth and tongues thrusting frantically as they tried to consume each other whole.

Molly whimpered into his mouth and then cupped her hands on top of his, and entwined their fingers together. The pain in his hands had been forgotten, replaced by a rash of tingling wherever their skin met. He deepened their kiss, and their initial fervor began to take on a more sensual bent.

"Fuck me," Molly groaned into Weevil's mouth before mouthing her way down to his pulse point and sinking her teeth into the tendon in his neck. At his gasp, she bucked her pelvis into his. "Fuck me, Eli. Do it," she whispered urgently against his skin.

_So screwed._

"God Damn." He slammed her wrists above her head and held them there with one hand as his other hand wandered down the ample curves her body. His fingers crept under her the hem of her skirt and pulled her underwear down her legs, helping her to step out of them.

Weevil was dizzy from sensation. He hadn't even touched her yet but the smell of her was everywhere – and he was getting drunker off of that than the whiskey. He sucked her earlobe into his mouth and returned her bite.

"Oh God!" Molly cried out in a mixture of pleasure and pain as he back arched, pressing her more tightly into him. "Eli. I want you. Come on, don't wait."

Their eyes locked and the burning he felt in his chest earlier migrated lower. "I want you too, Molly."

At that moment, the song _'If I Ever Leave This World Alive' _by Flogging Molly started loudly playing, the sound coming from Molly's boot.

_If I ever leave this world alive, I'll thank you for all the things you did in my life._

_If I ever leave this world alive, I'll come back down and sit beside your feet tonight..._

Weevil felt her stiffen in his arms and her face fell ashen.

With wide eyes that begged to be obeyed, Molly roughly whispered. "Don't..."

Before she could finish her sentence, they both reached for her left boot, but Weevil got there first, lifting her phone out of it handily and stumbling back a few steps to look at the caller ID.

_Wherever I am you'll always be more than just a memory._

"Eli, don't!" she yelled, in a panicked voice.

"Who is..." he looked down at the name readout and scrunched his nose. "'The Motherfucker'. What the hell?"

_If I ever leave this world alive._

"Give me the phone back, Eli." Molly's voice was quiet and she stood there petrified, resigned to her fate – until her face crumpled and the tears started to flow. "Give it to me. Please, Eli. Please..."

All it would take to find out who was messing with her, who was behind the blackmail and maybe even the attempts on Keith's life, was to answer the phone, take a gander at the return number and have it traced.

But after taking one look at Molly's pale face, he couldn't bring himself to do it.

He liked her. He didn't want to be the guy who put that look on her face. He was going to be the guy who made her smile – especially after he found out who was bugging her and cleaned his clock.

The phone stopped ringing and Weevil held it out for Molly to take. "Here."

She looked at his hand with distrust, but snatched the phone up anyway. "He'll kill you. He'll kill me. He won't even think twice about it. He's not – he's not...okay."

"I can take care of myself...and you too," Weevil insisted.

Molly shook her head, then knelt to lift her underwear off of the floor. "It was a mistake for me to come here. I can see that now."

Without looking back, she brushed past him and walked through his front door.

_Again, what the hell did I get myself into?_

* * *

"I feel like I'm wading through Jurassic Park...ing lot. Seriously, who parks this far away from their own house?" Logan stepped directly into a rotten grapfruit that had fallen on the ground from the tree above.

_Who just leaves grapefruits just lying around?_

"That one wasn't even clever," Wallace said, snorting a laugh as he tripped over the root of a copper penny tree. "You're losing your edge, Echolls."

"I'm all edge, asshole," Logan said, admitting internally that even his comeback to Wallace's accusation was pretty edgeless. "When we get there, just let me do the talking."

"Like I have a choice." Wallace peeled back a large frond and ducked under it, letting it spring back into Logan's face. "This is officially the land that time forgot."

_This had better be worth the trouble or Veronica isn't going to be the only one forced to bake this guy a tray of Snickerdoodles._

After tearing the frond from its branch and tossing it angrily to the ground, he continued trekking in Wallace's wake. "Jeez, so grumpy. People are going to think you're not getting it on the regular."

"Just..." Wallace stopped moving and turned to glare at Logan. "Enjoy this less."

_As if._

"Nope." Logan gently touched the end of Wallace's nose and grinned unabashedly, before spying a section of the house over Wallace's shoulder. "Land ho."

Wallace flared his nostrils at him, refusing to respond.

"Veronica would've had a good comeback. Get with the banter, Albin."

Dusky fig vines, that had long lost their fruit, twisted around the white-painted trellis leaning against the wall next to the front door of the house.

Spying a cluster of wind chimes hanging above the iron arch above the path, Logan couldn't resist the urge to run his fingers over the metal tubes. He strummed each one of them twice before Wallace was able to snatch his hand down.

"Hippies love a good wind instrument, don't they?" Logan took a deep, cleansing breath of air, wet and green from the surrounding groves. He reached up and knocked the chimes again.

If he had to judge by his expression, Logan would say that Wallace was unimpressed.

"Do you gotta touch everything? Are you even capable of good behavior?"

_Nope, but luckily Ronnie likes me a little bad._

Ignoring the question, Logan slid his hands up and down one of the smooth, white columns flanking the front door. "Maybe we should get a house like this one day. Whaddaya think, chocolate bunny?"

Having clearly given up the fight, Wallace simply sighed and leaned on the house buzzer.

"I'll take that as a yes."

The door opened almost immediately after the bell was rung, startling them both.

"Well, hello boys!" A pair of blue eyes with slight wrinkles around the edges greeted them from a crack in the door before opening it fully. "I'm Freya, you must be Renato and Albin," she said, gesturing to Logan and Wallace where appropriate.

She spoke with a light German accent, and with her high cheekbones, two slightly-greying strawberry blonde braids trailing down her back, and a broad smile on her face that reached her cat-shaped eyes, it was like an encounter with a middle-aged Heidi.

"Well, lookie here, she got it right on the first take." Logan smiled and thrust a stiff, satin gift bag in her direction.

Freya looked down at the bag with a question on her face.

"My mother never visited someone's house without bringing a gift," Logan explained, pointing to the bag. "They're seeds. Heirloom ones. Madison told us you like to garden."

Freya reached out and squeezed Logan's hand before taking the bag from him. "You mother did a good job with you. Come right in."

Logan felt an odd lump catch in his throat and he struggled to swallow it down. It was always unsettling to him how he could speak about Lynn at charity events and benefits without issue, yet at the oddest times, somebody would say something innocuous and he would feel the pang of her loss like her death had happened yesterday.

A comforting hand gripped Logan's shoulder, bringing him out of his malaise. He shot Wallace an appreciative smile before entering the house.

_Bobcat's going to have to fight me for Wallace's hand in friendship when all of this is done._

"Please, if you wouldn't mind taking your shoes off? The mud around here gets on everything." Freya pointed to a shoe rack, filled with several sets of trail boots and Wellingtons with caked-on mud. "Eve is out back painting, but she knows you're here."

Logan slipped out of his deck shoes and dropped them gently on the rack. "Nice place you've got here."

"Thank you very much. We don't often have too many visitors over, but Madison mentioned you were artists, and we have a hard time turning away fellow tradesman." Freya had a frenetic energy to her, flitting from surface to surface, straightening things as she went along like a newlywed throwing her first party. She ducked into the adjacent room, which Logan assumed to be the kitchen.

"I sculpt," Wallace called out loudly, as he removed his sneakers.

Logan raised an eyebrow in question, and Wallace just shrugged. "What? I do. It's not that far off from mechanical engineering," he whispered.

"Ah, then you are like me, Albin." Freya reappeared with a silver tray, holding a pitcher of Arnold Palmers and several tall glasses. The ice clanked against the side of the crystal as she approached. "Refreshments?"

"These are my favorite." Logan took a glass after Freya filled it. "Don't mind if I do. The trek from your driveway was..."

"Tedious?" Her eyes sparkled with mischief, and Logan instantly decided he liked her. "I said it was too much, but my partner really enjoys her privacy. You know how it is with relationships, you give a little...and you give a little," she joked.

Wallace barked out a laugh. "You ain't lying. Sometimes I feel like all I do is give."

_Oh, we're doing passive-aggressive now, are we Wallace?_

"Who are you kidding, honey? I'm so worth the trouble." Logan winked at Wallace, who returned the gesture with a tight smile.

Logan roamed the perimeter of the living room, examining all of the artwork that lined the walls, and finally settled on one painting that he just couldn't take his eyes off of.

"You like that one?" Freya asked, resting a comforting hand on his shoulder. "That's one of my favorites, too. Eve painted it the first year we were together."

A small boy of around ten stood at the bow of a yacht, looking over the edge of the guard rail into the swirling water below. His mother stood behind him laughing, her arms wrapped around his middle as he struggled to squirm away from her.

Something about the painting struck a chord deep within Logan's core. "It's...yeah. It reminds me of some of the better times I had. And there weren't many." He laughed self-consciously.

Freya stood shoulder-to-shoulder with him, the tray still cradled in her arms. "You didn't have a happy childhood?"

_Happy? No happier than any other human ashtray or punching bag._

"No." His fingers slid up and down the sides of the glass, using the condensation as a lubricant.

"Not many of us do, Renato," she said, leaving him to rest the tray on the edge of the side table. "Artists, I mean. It's what fuels us, don't you think?"

Logan considered whether his book series would have gotten made if Veronica hadn't left town. He figured Freya had to be right on some level. "I suppose it does, though to be honest, I would have rather had the happy childhood. Let the other poor souls provide the world with art."

"I like your art," Wallace said, with genuine affection.

"You admit it now?"

Something about this house felt both foreign and familiar at the same time, but Logan couldn't place how.

Logan quickly walked over to Wallace and threw his arms around him. "You always know the right thing to say, honey."

"What's up?" Wallace whispered into Logan's ear as he faux-nuzzled him.

Logan buried his face into Wallace's neck and whispered back. "I don't know, man. Something about this place is off. Do you feel it?"

Wallace slapped Logan on the back and pulled back. "I do too, baby."

_Thank God. I thought I was going crazy. Freya seems okay, but something isn't right._

"You're an adorable couple. Have you been together long?" Freya asked, gesturing them toward the back door of the house.

"Since high school." Logan elbowed Wallace, who rolled his eyes. "Well, he liked me since high school."

Logan left his glass on a coaster, then walked along the bookcase wall, running his fingertips along the spines of the books.

Wallace shook his head. "I think you've got that the other way around, man."

The book collection wasn't vast, but contained the classics, as well as most modern hits. It wasn't until the name 'Echolls' caught his eye that his heart jumped into his throat.

_Oh shit._

Logan's hand settled on first edition copies of every single book he'd ever written. He pulled down a copy of _'Royal Flush'_ and opened the front cover to look at the title page.

_To M,_

_I hear you're my biggest fan – _

_which makes me your biggest fan._

_All the best,_

_Logan Echolls_

Logan didn't remember writing the inscription, but after four novels and multiple national book tours, he'd signed a lot of copies. Still, something about this one turned his stomach over.

"Who is 'M'?" Logan asked aloud, his eyes still glued to the title page. "You're Freya, your partner's name is Eve. Who's 'M'?"

Wallace's brow quirked, and he slowly made his way over to his friend, fists balled at his sides protectively.

Freya cleared her throat. "I got that one a while ago."

"You went to the 'Royal Flush' signing?" Logan asked.

Freya's hands toyed with the bottom hem of her blouse. "I went to all of your signings...Logan."

_She just called me Logan._

Logan felt the foundation move under his feet and he braced himself against the bookcase to get his bearings.

"Are you okay?" Wallace rushed to Logan's side, but he sloughed him off. Wallace then turned toward Freya with a confrontational look on his face. "You know who he is?"

"Yes." She wouldn't meet Wallace's eyes.

"But you played along with this performance? Why?" he demanded, taking a threatening step forward.

Logan reached out and grabbed Wallace's arm, then shook his head.

"We just wanted to see you, Logan." Freya took a step in Logan's direction but was cut off by Wallace.

"We? Who is 'M'?" Logan hissed angrily from his crouched over position.

It was like reading the end of a mystery novel, where all of the puzzle pieces fall into place, finally revealing the full picture. You may have suspected it, but until those last few pages, you never knew for sure how everything that lead up to that point factored in.

"You're a smart boy." Freya swallowed hard and struggled to remain calm. "You know who 'M' is."

_This can't be happening._

Logan took off for the back door and threw it open, letting it bang hard against the back wall of the house.

"Logan!" Wallace cried, fast on his heels until Freya intercepted.

The woman outside was sitting at an easel with her back to him, painting the trees just beyond the property line. Her chocolate-colored hair was piled high on her head and fastened into a loose bun, and she wore a pair of old jeans and painter's smock. As the door slammed open, her back stiffened, but she still didn't turn around.

"How could you?" Logan rasped into the wind. "How could you do that to me?" His chest was heaving so rapidly it burned with each breath he took. "How could you..."

She stood up on weedy legs and slowly turned around to look at him. Her face looked softer than he'd remembered, but more at peace. There were fine lines that creased her face – lines she never would have allowed herself to have before - and the trout pout she'd spent so much time and money to maintain was long gone. Her figure was still slender, but seemed sturdier than he remembered, more athletic. Her eyes though...those were the same.

"Logan." His name came out as more of a sob, and she brought her hands to cover her mouth. "Baby?"

_Oh God. Oh fuck. Did I just get hit in the head? Am I dead?_

Logan's fingers gripped the side of the door frame, where he was barely able to hold himself up. "I don't know how I'm supposed to respond. What do I call you? Eve? Evelyn?" he snapped, sarcastically, "or do we keep it old school and go with just plain Lynn?"

She swallowed thickly and let her hands fall to her chest. "You could just call me mom."

Logan laughed hard and banged his forehead against the door jam to make sure he wasn't dreaming. "My mother is dead."

With that, he turned and walked back into the house.

* * *

**A/N - So there you have it - those of you who guessed Lynn can pat yourselves on the back. Her reappearance just contributes more craziness and confusion to Logan/Veronica's impending parenthood. I know the MaDi-lovers are sad, but I've already written two scenes for the next chapter (one for each of them), so their storyline will come back into play now that the stalker thing has been wrapped up.**

**PS - Big thank you shout out to my long-suffering beta, silverlining2k6**

**Hope you liked it! Please let me know via a review, if you can. I'm dying to hear what you think. Thanks for reading!**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N - So...obviously I chose to go with the longer format with a longer time between chapters. I kind of overloaded myself with WIPs, which is why there's been such a delay. I'm actually writing every day, but there are just so many stories that need finishing! Anyway, hope you can bear with me-I really appreciate you sticking with this. We're over the hump now and things should start tying together plotwise. Your reviews mean the world.**

* * *

Having spent a considerable amount of timing running scams with Veronica Mars, Wallace was no stranger to the sinking feeling that took hold whenever the shit really hit the fan.

He'd felt it shudder through him the moment the voice over the loudspeaker alluded to his hidden camera during the Castle initiation. It gripped his insides after Rashard Rucker refused to stop the car after running down that homeless man in Chicago. But the worst of it had to be the evening Parker called him from the EMS van and informed him that Veronica had nearly been raped and killed.

This was almost as bad.

Wallace breathed heavily through the wet heat as he dashed through the grove in front of Lynn Echolls' house. Logan had a head start on him, but years of playing basketball had trained him to be quick on his feet.

_I just hope I'm quick enough. If he does something dumb, Veronica's gonna kick my ass HARD._

"Logan!"

Fern leaves whipped him in the face as he rushed past them, but he couldn't worry about that now. His best friend – his sister – was having a baby, and history taught him anything, it was that the father of her baby was about to do something reckless. He'd seen it a dozen times before. To say Logan didn't handle stress very well, would be an understatement.

A tall figure disappeared behind a tree and Wallace pivoted mid-step to follow it.

"Logan, man! Wait up!" His lungs ached from exertion, but he pressed on. "I know that's you, man. Just stop!"

From a distance, he watched the figure grip his head with both hands, turn in a circle and then collapse onto all fours.

"Dammit."

_Not good. Actually, this takes 'not good' to a whole other level._

By the time Wallace reached the clearing that served as the makeshift driveway to the house, Logan was hyperventilating into the pavement, and Wallace's stomach plummeted to his ankles.

_I'm way the fuck over my head._

Wallace's eyes grew wide at the pitiful sight, and although everything in him wanted to run in the opposite direction, he continued walking forward.

"Logan?"

Logan shook his head at the dirt and held a hand up to block him from approaching.

Ignoring his plea, Wallace approached Logan and sank down onto his knees beside him.

Half-mad with misery, a silent sob bubbled out of his distraught friend's throat as he tipped his head back toward the heavens.

"Hey..." It was the gentlest voice Wallace could muster. It was the gentlest voice he'd ever _had_ to muster. The only time another person had come to him so broken, he'd been all but silent, simply holding her as she cried two years worth of pain onto his shoulder.

Logan's mom had been gone at least seven or eight years.

Wallace leaned toward Logan, who was currently bearing down on his fist in a fruitless attempt to keep from crying. Tears streamed down the man's face, but no sound escaped.

"Do you want me to call Veronica for you?"

Logan shook his head and mumbled the same thing over and over again, like a mantra. "This isn't happening. This isn't happening." His voice sounded strangled and foreign. "This isn't happening. It can't be—what the fuck?" He tugged absently at his hair with both hands.

_Okay, I'm really freakin' out of my element here._

"I should call Veronica," Wallace suggested, more for himself than for Logan. She would know how to deal with this. What the hell could he do other than make things worse?

"No!" Logan said, sharply. "I can't-don't call Ronnie, okay?"

"Why?" All of Wallace's nerve endings felt rough and unfinished, easily absorbing the misery taking place by his side. "You don't want her to see you like this or something?"

Logan's chuckle sounded anything but happy. "No! Of course, I don't want her to see me like this, okay? I don't even want _you _to see me like this!" Spit flew out of his mouth as he shouted. "The last thing I need is for her to think of me as some pathetic asshole. I'm barely hanging on by a thread with her as it is..."

"What?" Wallace angled his head to look into Logan's face. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"I don't want her to leave me," he rasped, before burying his face into his hands.

"Veronica? Why would Veronica leave you?"

_Okay, this shit is getting deep. I'm not sure my psychology 101 class at Hearst really qualifies me to be dealing with him like this._

Logan's hands fell to his lap and he pressed them down hard into his thighs. "When hasn't she?"

"Now." Wallace leaned forward and grabbed Logan by the shoulders. "She hasn't left you _now_. You need to snap the fuck out of this, man!"

Logan blinked back up at him in shock.

"Look, I know that what your mom did to you was a shitty thing..."

"Do you, Wallace?" Logan spat. "I seriously doubt you do. You know what it's like to have a parent suddenly come back from the dead after nearly a decade and try to insinuate themselves into your life?"

Wallace's grip loosened for a moment.

_Okay, I get it now. I'm supposed to be here for this. God damn universe, always gotta be showing us who's boss._

"I know exactly what that's like, okay?" His fingers stretched taut again and turned Logan by the shoulders to face him. "My dad showed up during our senior year at Neptune High. My real dad. The man I thought was my dad died when I was little. It was all a big fucking lie my moms told me to cover up for the fact that my real dad was a junkie, a NARC who got in a little too deep."

Logan rubbed his face onto his sleeve and looked at Wallace with a softer expression. "I remember hearing about that from Veronica. At the time, I told her you were lucky." A hurt smile appeared on his lips. "Little did I know."

The memories were flooding his brain hard and fast. Wallace was coming apart at the seams, but remained stoic. "Nah, you were right. I was lucky. He's cool now. We don't have—we're not close or nothing, but he's...I have a dad, and it's okay."

Logan raised a finger. "This is never going to be okay."

"It will be." Wallace gave Logan's shoulders an encouraging squeeze before releasing him. "I know it don't seem like it, but it will. And all this crazy business about Veronica leaving you, you've gotta put it out of your head, man. Don't let your fucked up past ruin your future. I almost did."

"It was stupid."

"_You're_ stupid."

Logan rumpled his own hair fondly. "That too."

_Time to play big brother. I may not be older, and I may not really be Veronica's brother, but this shit is happening._

"You're gonna feel weird about your mom for a while, but Veronica's not your mom, okay? Her mom left her, too." Wallace felt short of breath. "I'm not sure why, but she really loves your crazy ass. She'd never-"

"I know. I know. I'm just working the whole self-loathing thing right now, and it spilled over." He shrugged and sniffed hard. "When you've lost everybody you've ever cared about, the whole positivity thing is not exactly in the wheelhouse."

"Well, then build a bigger wheelhouse." Wallace crossed his arms over his chest and glowered down at Logan. "You've got a kid coming, and the last thing Veronica needs is for you to be stressing her out with your bullshit. I know you thought you were protecting her, but this _should _have been her here with you, and you know it. You read me?"

Logan averted his eyes and nodded. "Like the bible, dude."

Wallace clambered to his feet, brushed the dust from his knees and extended his hand. "Logan Echolls, you're a piece of work, you know that?"

"I'm a piece of work...in progress." Logan grabbed Wallace's hand and pulled himself up, then gripped harder as Wallace attempted to pull it back. "Thank you. For all of that." He gestured in a circle at the ground with his other hand.

"You don't have to thank family, Logan, it's how we do." Wallace nodded once and headed toward the car.

* * *

The last 48 hours had been the longest of Duncan Kane's relatively short life. In the past two days, he'd been in two fights (one fake, one real), started a prison riot, been approached by the head of the local Irish mob, and read most of the way through a copy of the book, 'The Count of Monte Cristo'.

But if he were really pushed to answer, he'd say that walking toward that prison conference room, leg irons chaffing painfully against his ankles as he shuffled slowly toward his destination, was the most exciting thing that had happened to him since he'd been in the joint.

"You've got 30 minutes, Romeo." Johnson, who was quickly rocketing to the top of Duncan's Christmas list, winked as he unlocked the door.

Duncan gave him a wry smile. "Don't suppose a hundred bucks could buy me another half hour, huh?"

"Maybe next time, lover boy. I've got your back, but I can't lose my job. Hardly nowhere gives health insurance anymore and I've got a kid." He shrugged and turned the knob to open the door, then left him with a parting smile. "Maybe my watch is a little slow, though. Just a little."

The door shut tightly behind him and he heard the whir of the automatic lock click behind him.

Standing beneath the only window in the dank, small room, with the midday sunlight streaming through wired bars that created a checkered pattern across the skirt of her salmon-colored sheath, Carmen's eyes fluttered open at the jangle his shackles made as he shifted his weight.

"You're not making my job easy, you know?" Her eyes drifted from the bruise on his face down to the dried blood on his knuckles and she shook her head ruefully. "What are they doing to you in there? It hasn't even been a week."

Duncan stood watching her, partially paralyzed by her beauty, but mostly by the shame he felt for the way he'd been forced to behave in order to stay alive. He'd spent the last seven years in flight mode, doing whatever it took to keep his daughter safe, never once questioning the tactics he'd had to use or the repercussions they'd caused. He was as singular in his goal then as he was now. It was all for Lilly. It had to be. And he'd turn himself into whomever he had to in order to keep her safe and happy.

"They're not doing anything, honestly. It's me." Duncan remained in place, not sure where he was supposed to move to, as Carmen's warm gaze continued to caress his face.

Her heels clacked against the painted cement floor as she approached him cautiously. One delicate hand trailed the swollen, purple line on his cheek bone and he practically melted into her touch. "Chardo?"

_Keep it together. Don't creep her out with your neediness, dude._

"Yeah." He calmly let her turn his head by the chin to assess the rest of the damage.

"This was his dumb idea?" She looked at him like he was a child who'd been caught stealing candy.

"Hector."

Carmen snorted her laughter and Duncan felt his entire body relax at her reaction. "God, those idiots. I don't know what they think this is accomplishing. It's only going to get more people to notice you're there."

"I think that was kind of the point." He shot her a crooked smiled.

"How am I supposed to get your ass pardoned if you listen to those guys?" Her eyes narrowed at him in benevolent judgment.

"I think they're just trying to keep me alive in there."

"I assume you're paying them for all of this stellar advice?"

He shrugged, guilt rolling off of him like flop sweat. "We have an arrangement. Weevil."

At her old friend's name, she rolled her eyes. "He should know better." She pointed to the empty chair on the client side of the folding table that would function as her desk. "Sit, tough guy."

Duncan slowly made his way across the room. With each crash of the chains against the floor, he noticed her mouth set into an even grimmer line.

"I hate this." Carmen said, unlocking the briefcase she'd left on the tabletop.

"I feel your pain."

Her eyes flicked up to his and her lips quirked upward. "Smart ass."

A broad grin crept across his face, accompanied by the first true feeling of happiness he'd experienced since entering into this dangerous ordeal.

As she placed a Rubbermaid container filled with food in front of him, he began to feel the stirrings of a second one. "Are you kidding me?"

Carmen unlatched the top, and Duncan was overcome by the spicy-sweet scent of chicken mole over yellow rice. "There's no way a healthy guy like you is eating the junk they serve in there. You were the only guy who used to bring salads to high school."

"Only during wrestling season when I had to make weight." Duncan's mouth began to water like a cartoon wolf as inhaled the heady odor. "This smells amazing."

"It_ is_ amazing. It's my abuela's recipe. She always made it for me when I had a cold. I know I don't make it as well as she did, and you're not sick, but..."

"It's perfect." Duncan placed his hand over Carmen's - soft and warm beneath his fingers - and gave it a squeeze, then immediately retracted it. As attractive as she was, he had control. He wouldn't act like some horny criminal with a life sentence on his first visit to the conjugal trailer. The last thing he wanted to do was make her uncomfortable.

She sucked in a breath and gave him a curious look.

"Sorry."

_Great. Now she probably thinks I'm a creeper._

She shook her head and then flashed him a smile. "It's okay."

_It is?_

He cleared his throat, desperate for something to do that didn't involve swallowing air like an idiot.

"Carmen, thank you. Seriously. The legal help, the book, the food...I don't know what I did to deserve all of this, but I promise I'll make it up to you."

She removed a set of metal silverware from her case and handed it to him. "It's the right thing to do."

Duncan took his first bite of food and nearly fainted from pleasure. He was famished and weak from not eating much over the last few meals, but he was far hungrier to understand Carmen's motives for helping him.

Swallowing down the bite, he forced himself to pause before the next, so he wouldn't look like a caveman.

"You're a good man, Duncan. I know you may not always feel like one, but you are. And an even better dad."

His fork paused mid-air. "A lot of guys out there are good dads..."

"Not as many as you'd think." Carmen played restlessly with the bracelets on her wrist, and it was then that he noticed the scars there. Old - yet still raised, but no longer pink, they encircled her left wrist entirely, barely hidden behind a stack of silver bangles.

_Shit. Did her dad mess her up? Is that from handcuffs or rope?_

He held her gaze and an understanding took hold. "Oh."

"Yeah." She exhaled tensely and swallowed hard, then pushed the bracelets up to reveal her scars. "Like I said, I don't have too much personal experience with good dads, so I can appreciate a guy who actually puts in the effort."

"Your dad did that?" Duncan's brow furrowed, and he suddenly felt much less hungry. He tentatively reached across the desk and bushed his fingertips over her scar. An irrational anger flooded his body and he pressed down firmly on her wrist.

_I don't know who this asshole is, but as soon as I'm able to call out, my first call after Lilly is going to be CW._

"I was about six or seven at the time, and I guess it was too much trouble to watch me while he was smoking crack with his friends, so he'd just chain me to the radiator in our living room by my wrist, sometimes for hours. One time, he didn't have any rope handy, so he used a string from one of my guitars."

"You play the guitar?"

"Not anymore." She shook her head and laughed bitterly.

Duncan released her wrist, then curled his hand into a fist to keep himself from touching her again. "Please tell me he's dead."

"Oh yeah. Overdosed when I was ten. I'm surprised he lasted that long once my mom kicked him out." Carmen's bottom lip pulsed slightly and Duncan had to tamp down the desire to suck it into his mouth.

_Well, guess that saves me the trouble of getting convicted for murder._

He expected her eyes to be misty when she looked up at him, but instead of tears, he saw a steely determination.

"But you see now why I do this, right?" Carmen asked, staring him down in a way that made him feel exposed and raw. "Even if it's a risk, even if I get fired, if I can keep one child from being abused, it's worth it. You gave up everything to keep your daughter from getting abused. That's something I can appreciate."

Duncan shook his head. "Not everything. I still had her."

She licked her lips and gave him a short nod. "Yes."

He lifted the fork and thoughtfully tore the meat from the bone in the plastic container. "I wanted to fight Manning in court, but Lilly would have been remanded into his custody for the duration. If he had done anything to her..." He stabbed a piece of meat hard. "I know I would have been able to control myself. I'm not...I like to be in control."

Carmen wrapped her fingers around his wrist this time. "I'm going to get you out of here."

"I won't hold you to it." He smirked at her to lighten the mood. "Jesus Christ, this is the best thing I've eaten in years."

Her mouth twisted to the side with skepticism. "Coming from an inmate, I'm not sure that it's much of a fair assessment."

"Make it for me again when I get out then," he suggested off-hand. "It's the only way you'll truly get an accurate opinion."

_Where the hell did that come from? Did I just ask her out? Way to bite the hand that literally feeds you, man._

Duncan cursed his lack of verbal filter.

Carmen peeked out at him from behind her briefcase, then closed the lid and snapped it shut. "Maybe I'll do that."

_What? Did that just happen? Did she flirt back?_

Duncan couldn't help the stupid stupid grin that enveloped his entire face. "See you six months then."

"Maybe sooner. You don't happen to know anybody who knows the governor, do you?" she asked, clearly joking.

"Not the current governor." Duncan sucked down another bite food then stopped mid-chew. "Would an 'in' with a past governor help?"

* * *

Dick Casablancas was not a jack of all trades. Cassidy had been good at almost anything he put his mind to, he had an uncanny knack for analyzing a task, and then discovering a new and better way to tackle it. It was hard to always feel two steps behind, especially when the person out front was his younger brother.

In one of their closer moments - and yes, they had those occasionally - Cass told Dick there had to be at least one thing he was good at. They were brothers, and shared the same genetic material. There was no way, statistically, that Cassidy would be good at everything, and Dick nothing. He surmised that there had to be some overlap, and even if it took a while to figure out what that overlap was, it existed.

It wasn't a ringing endorsement, but it did make sense. And since Cass was 'the smart one', Dick decided he probably knew what he was talking about.

It took Dick three years at Hearst College to figure out where that overlap was. Turned out, he _had _inherited something from their father, and it was something Cassidy never had himself. Charm. At first, he didn't think much of it, but as he continued on in his education and beyond, he would come to learn it meant almost everything.

'Big Dick' always said that getting your foot in the door was the biggest challenge in business, and the second was sealing the deal. Neither of those things were a challenge for him.

Dick was oozing with charisma. With barely any effort, could talk almost anybody into anything, disarming even the crankiest of executives.

His senior year, Dick talked the dean of Hearst out of suspending his frat when they got busted for underage drinking by promising to set up a charity event for abused children.

One call charmed the chairwoman of the art department into donating a large amount of artwork to the cause. Then, he got his hands on his mother's phone book and social calender. After scheduling the auction to take place on a day he knew the power-peddlers had free, he convinced nearly every high-profile name in her contact list to attend, and got a Zeta Theta he was banging to organize the event with her sisters.

It took him roughly four hours, and it raised over $200,000.

It took only four minutes to convince the secretary at Kane Software to let him wait for Clarence Wiedman in his office.

"Mr. Casablancas, to what do I owe this unexpected visit?" Wiedman's expression suggested that whatever Dick was doing wasting his time had better be worth it, or there would be consequences.

Dick leaned back into the stiff embrace of the studded leather couch he was sitting on, and bought his foot to rest on his knee. "You're pretty shady, Wiedman, but you look like the kind of guy who knows how to keep his word."

The edge of Wiedman's mouth quirked with amusement as he crossed the room to perched himself on the edge of his desk, an attempt to use his height advantage as an intimidation tactic. "Go on."

_I know this game, playah. Play on._

"This thing you've got Cindy MacKenzie mixed up in, I want her kept out of it."

Wiedman crossed his arms over his chest. "What business of it is yours?"

Dick mirrored Wiedman's body language and leaned forward. "That doesn't really concern you, man. All you need to know, is that I want her out of it, and I'm willing to do whatever it takes in order to make that happen."

"What makes you think you have anything that could be of use to me?" Wiedman's poker face remained in tact.

_Brace yourself, asshole._

Dick's gaze floated to the wall of windows behind Wiedman's head. "Well, I have proof that you bribed a waiter to dose Mac with Ketamine on Saturday night." He turned back and leveled a glare at the man that could freeze water. "That's probably pretty useful, no?"

Wiedman exhaled through his nose and his expression faltered. "What makes you think I'm the one who drugged Ms. MacKenzie?"

"Not think –" he corrected, "Know."

"Okay. What makes you 'know'?"

_Did he just use fucking 'air quotes' with me?_

"Well, I figure, why would Petrenko bother dosing Mac if he wasn't going to fuck her? Rapists usually don't change their minds after getting to second base." A brief flash of Veronica in a white dress brought the taste of bile to Dick's throat. "Plus, Mac said you were there that night, that you had a little chat sesh in the bathroom."

Wiedman shifted uncomfortably from his perch. "And what would I have to gain from drugging her?"

"You knew Petrenko liked her. Maybe you thought he might trust her more if they were sleeping together...and what better way to get a chick in the mood than drugging her?" Dick's spontaneous cadence made it seem like he was spit-balling, as if he hadn't been obsessing about this from the moment Mac stumbled home on Sunday morning with a hickey the size of a golf ball over her left breast.

"He might've thought it was real, but you knew she wouldn't. Being taken advantage of would only make Mac even more determined to bring him down. You knocked out two birds with one stone...or one vial of Ketamine, I guess. That's something Sheriff Mars might be interested in, seeing as his daughter is so close with Mac."

Dick knew Wiedman's bravado was beginning to flag, when he circled around his desk and took as seat behind it.

He steepled his hands in front of him on his modernist desk. "Let's assume that you have something you believe is evidence to support this little fantasy you've dreamed up—"

He had nothing but a hunch, but Wiedman didn't need to know that. Business dealing were like poker, and the one thing Dick excelled in was gaming. Even the hint that he might have something on the guy might get him to play ball.

Dick rested his chin on his uninjured arm's fist and smiled enigmatically. "That's a pretty good assumption to make."

"What exactly do you propose we do about it?" Wiedman's eyes reflected a begrudging admiration, despite his snippy tone.

_Ownage!_

A wave of relief washed over Dick as he pulled out his cell phone. "I've got a few ideas knocking around."

* * *

The Alexeicon building was the tallest in Neptune by far, casting its ominous shadow over nearly every house in the 09er zip code. From her corner office on the twenty-fifth floor, Mac's window view covered almost half of Neptune.

She always dreamed of achieving something like this, but having been manipulated into it made her feel more like Rapunzel than a department head.

Her eyes flitted to the door to make sure it was tightly shut before she pulled the cell phone from her purse and dialed.

The call connected after the first ring.

"If you're not calling to tell me we've won tickets to a Barenaked Ladies concert, you can just hang up, because I'm not in the mood for bad news."

Mac chuckled to herself. "I'm pretty sure that would fall under the heading of 'bad news', Bond."

A moment of silence filled the line. "You're probably right about that. Alright, hit me with the bad news already, then."

"What makes you think this is bad news?" Mac looked at the phone with furrowed brows, forgetting for a moment that Veronica couldn't see her face.

"We haven't gotten a whole helluva lot of good news lately, in case you haven't noticed."

_Oh, I've noticed. I still have the evidence of bad news in the shape of a peach pit over my boob._

Mac heard the sound of a car door slamming shut.

"Where are you going?"

Veronica grunted. "Actually, I do have some good news. It's like Gaia lives to contradict me."

"Yeah? Well, I do have a bit of good news too."

"I don't want to hear about how good Dick is in bed," Veronica quickly interjected.

_If only!_

"I wouldn't know." Mac grabbed the stress ball off of her desktop and gave it a firm squeeze before pegging hard it at the wall. "That's not the good news, by the way, before you try to get cute."

"Ah, you know me so well. Hang on a second."

The muffled sounds of Veronica arguing with somebody in the background piqued Mac's interest. "Who is that?"

"Just Alicia. Doing the naggy mom thing."

"Well, sometimes you need a good nagging."

"I resent that." Veronica sounded more entertained than resentful.

Mac rolled her eyes. "Okay, out with your news already. You're obviously _dying_ to share."

Veronica snorted hard. "Alright, fine, you caught me. I'm...on my way to the doctor's office."

Mac's nose wrinkled as she sank down heavily into her ergonomic, leather chair. "Congratulations?"

"The OBGYN."

_What. The. Fuck?_

"Uhhh..." Mac was at a loss for words. If this meant what she thought it meant, it could either be a very bad thing or a very good thing for her friend.

_She did say 'good news' though..._

"It's a good thing," Veronica asserted, as if reading Mac's mind from afar.

"Then...congratulations. This time with the inflection down at the end. Like it's a statement. Because it is." She knew she was rambling but at a loss as to how to stop herself.

_Veronica's pregnant? She's pregnant! What the hell? _

She knew they screwed like bunnies, but wondered how much sex they must have been having in order for her to get knocked up two and a half months after getting back together with Logan.

_You took a health class, moron. You know it only takes one time..._

"You're freaked out."

"I'm freaked out," Mac agreed, pushing herself into a dead spin on the chair. "But also happy for you...if you're happy that is. Just give me the heads up on how I'm supposed to feel about it...or not...no pressure."

"Let's go with happy."

"I'm smiling as we speak." Mac stared longingly at the red stress ball lying in the corner of her office. She was happy for Veronica, but with the amount of changing happening so rapidly, her life was starting to feel like a soap opera...a soap opera from the 1960's where nobody had sex onscreen.

_Okay, I need to focus on something other than the fact that Dick is refusing to sleep with me._

"Remember that little Easter egg you almost got stabbed retrieving from the bus locker?"

_Perhaps that was not the most elegant lead-in sentence?_

Veronica hummed in faux confusion. "Vaguely..."

"Well, consider that egg cracked."

A sharp intake of breath almost blew out her hearing. "Shut up. So soon?"

"Leo was a cop, Bond, not a computer genius. It didn't take much."

_Try ten minutes – including a coffee break._

"Did you look at the files?" she asked.

Mac wasn't sure how to answer that. Veronica never explicitly asked her to, but she never forbade it either. "Did you want me to?"

"Yes!" she shouted, as if it should have been obvious.

Mac smiled into the receiver. "Then I did."

"What would you have said if I had said no?"

"Uh...no?"

"You are such a conniving bitch," Veronica said through a hail of laughter. "I'm actually getting a little teary-eyed with pride, though that could just be the hormones. So, what's on it?"

"Recordings. Hours and hours of recordings. I don't know from where, but they seem to be color coded." Mac typed a password into her iPhone and then toggled onto her Dropbox app and tapped it open.

"Were you able to figure any of them out?"

Mac tapped open a file entitled 'RED' and hundreds of WAV files filled the screen. "I can take an educated guess as to what 'RED' is."

"Petrenko."

Mac could almost hear the gears in Veronica's head whirring through the phone line.

"Is there a file called 'GREEN'?" she asked.

"As a matter of fact..." Within two taps, Mac had the 'GREEN' file open. "I'll Dropbox it to you."

"Exxxxcellent." Veronica sighed into the phone. "Q, you beautiful genius, how can I thank you?"

"I'd say your first born child, but seeing as it's half Logan's, I'm pretty sure I'd have to start bailing it out of jail at a young age. I'm not sure I'll ever make enough to cover 18 years worth of felony charge bail. How about just your undying friendship?"

"Deal."

"If you're going to be making deals, darling, the least you could do is invite me to the table."

Startled from her conversation, Mac's gaze dragged slowly upward, until it settled on the dashing man lazing in her doorway.

"I have to go." Mac didn't wait for Veronica to respond before ending the call. She smiled warily and pointed to the phone with a shrug. "My friend."

Alexei's cold, blue eyes burned a hole through her chest. "Anybody I know?"

_Does he think it's Dick? Do I want him to?_

She laughed nervously and slipped the phone into her blazer's pocket. "I don't think we have too many friends in common."

"You'd be surprised." He sauntered over to her chair and caressed the edge of her jaw with his fingertips. "Such a brilliant mind behind this pretty face..."

Her skin crawled. The part of her that didn't want to curl into a ball felt like snapping his fingers off at the knuckles.

_Oh God, please let this be over soon._

"We could go very far together. You have no idea how much potential you have, Cindy."

Alexei stepped closer, completely invading her personal space. His crotch was level with her face now, and she wondered if he was trying to threaten her or get her to take a hint.

"That's what _they_ tell me." She turned her head and forced a breathy laugh, though she was certain it sounded more like she'd been punched in the stomach.

Kneeling at Mac's side, Alexei reached out with both hands to cup her face. "_They_ have no idea."

Her bottom lip quivered as he leaned in to bite down softly on it.

_Fuck my life. This is not happening._

"Mac?" A familiar voice called from just outside her open door.

Not a moment after their lips made contact, Alexei pulled back.

"Think about what I said." Alexei chucked her under the chin and rose back up to full height, then turned to greet the intruder. "Mr. Casablancas, always a pleasure." His grin was malicious as he brushed past Dick on his way out of Mac's office.

Dick stared flatly at Mac for a beat, before narrowing his eyes and turning on his heel.

"Dick, no!" Mac leapt out of her chair and was able to grab his arm before he got more than halfway down the hallway. "It's a bad idea. A really bad idea, okay? Just come into my office with me. He's not worth it. Come on."

His jaw tightened as he deliberated, but slight tug to the elbow had Dick shaking off the anger. "Fine."

_Crisis averted._

Mac pushed her sulking boyfriend back into her office and closed the door behind them. "Dick, it wasn't what it-"

Before she could finish her sentence, he had her pinned against the wall and covered her mouth with his, stealing her breath.

Her body felt numb, but not in the way it had when Alexei kissed her. More like her skin was vibrating at a different frequency.

_Yep, the guy still knows how to kiss. Good to know it wasn't a fluke._

Mac's fingers twisted in Dick's hair and pulled down hard.

"Ow! What the fuck, Mac?"

"_What the fuck, Mac?_ Are you serious?" She shoved him off of her and stepped out from under his hulking embrace. "What were you thinking?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe that some creepy beardy dude was trying to mack on my...Mac." His eyes widened in challenge.

"Do you really think he's a threat or something?"

"Oh he's a threat, just not in the way you're implying." Dick raked a hand through his hair. "He's a psycho killer, Mac. He kills people, like, for a living and shit. Or has his minions do it. He held a gun to my face, in case you've forgotten."

"No. Of course, I haven't." She pursed her lips in order to prevent herself from saying anything else, while her rage evaporated. This wasn't some stupid caveman thing, he was actually concerned about her safety. "I—that's—I know, okay? I know he's dangerous. And I know you were just trying to protect me, but I can protect myself, okay? I'm not some damsel in distress."

_I totally am. Dammit._

Dick held back a laugh. "You looked pretty fucking distressed when I walked in."

"Fine." Mac scrubbed her face with both hands and exhaled into them. "Maybe, I am in over my head."

One strong arm curved around her back and pulled her into a wall of muscle. She dropped her hands and pressed her cheek to Dick's chest, breathing his ocean scent in deeply, as small circles were rubbed into the center of her back.

"It's going to be okay."

_If I keep my eyes shut, maybe I can pretend to believe that for a few minutes._

Her frame shook with a laughter that bordered on tears. "How can you just—how can you say that, Dick? You just pointed out – quite effectively, I might add – that Alexei is a trained killer."

"He's not the only trained killer in Neptune, dude."

She angled her head up to look into his eyes. "Please tell me you're not talking about yourself."

"I'm only a trained killer in the sack." He waggled his brows at her and she slammed her forehead into his pecs.

"It's actually more comforting when you don't talk," Mac mumbled into his chest.

* * *

The exam room was silent, but what wasn't being talked about might as well have been screamed into the rafters, because the sentiment was everywhere.

_Lynn Echolls is ALIVE and just confronted Logan!_

Veronica had gotten the text from Wallace nearly four hours ago, but since then, there had been an eerie radio silence, punctuated only by the occasional text – a number - signifying the nearest highway mile marker on the ride back

Wallace was the one driving, so he couldn't really send detailed texts, and Logan's phone was unresponsive. If she didn't know Logan better, she'd assume they were driving through a dead zone or that his phone had run out of juice.

_His phone is probably at the bottom of the Pacific by now...if he didn't smash it against the nearest wall before he could get there._

Nobody could touch Logan when it came to creating new and dramatic ways to express pain.

Veronica tried to keep her anger at bay. She should have been there with him. He should have trusted her with the information.

_Should he have, though? If I were him, what would I have done?_

It's not like Veronica's judgment had always been stellar. She could be as reckless as Logan when pushed to her limit. Maybe he thought one more of his fuck-ups would push her over the edge?

"He'll be here." Alicia smiled warmly, as she flipped through the pages of the latest issue of Vanity Fair. Wordlessly, she pulled a copy of highlights magazine from her handbag and handed it to Lilly, who was seated next to her.

_How does Alicia do that? She always knows what everybody needs._

"I know he will." Veronica beamed with false confidence at Lilly, who tipped her head to the side and pouted her ruby lips forward in a show of empathy.

"If Uncle Lo doesn't get here in time, I'll hold your hand. Daddy says I'm really good at it." In the fluorescent light of the doctor's office, Lilly almost looked like a regular kid. And then she smirked, and the illusion was ruined. "I won't even touch the sonogram machine, even though it's completely stupid that I can't."

Veronica groaned and shook her head. "We've gone over this ten times already. Just because you had a sonogram once, doesn't mean you know how to operate the machine, Lilly."

"How hard can it be? You just squirt the gross stuff out of the mustard bottle, move the thingy back and forth and then turn on the tv." Her bottom lip pushed out farther.

"We had a deal. A woman is only as good as her word, Lil," Veronica reminded her.

Lilly sighed, and flipped the page of her magazine like she was mad at its existence. "Whatever."

The air conditioning kicked in again, sending a shiver down Veronica's spine. She pulled at the scant fabric of her medical robe and tried to arrange the meager garment over as much skin as possible.

If Logan were here, he would have had her wrapped up in his arms by now.

_Way to think about yourself, Veronica._

"Are you cold?" Alicia asked without looking up from the magazine she was reading.

_Seriously? She can't even see me! It's settled. Alicia has a third eye._

"It's like they're offering complimentary egg freezing in here."

Alicia stood up and tossed the magazine onto the ground next to her handbag. "Honestly, I'll never understand these OBGYN offices." She looked up at the ceiling for a moment, dragged the chair she was sitting on into the center of the room, and then climbed on top of it.

"What are you doing?" Veronica's eyes quickly scanned the door for signs of entry, but even if the doctor had walked in at that moment, she couldn't even bring herself to feel bad about Alicia's invasive room tweaks. After 45 minutes of waiting on a frigid table with no clothes on, Veronica felt pretty much entitled to turn the room into a wine bar, if she felt like it.

"100% of their clientele is going to be naked at some point during their visit, and yet every OB office is like a damn meat locker." Alicia extended her long arms upward, pressing the fingertips of one hand into the textured popcorn for support, while using the other to knock half of the slats closed on the A/C vent. "Just another way 'the man' is trying to keep us down." She hopped off of the chair and pulled it back into place, then visually checked in with Veronica. "Better?"

Veronica nodded. "Thanks. Wallace doesn't know how lucky he is."

"Of course he does." Alicia made a face. "And Wallace isn't the only one who's lucky."

"Darrell, too."

The older woman sighed. "You think I'd drive just anybody's bossy behind around all day? That's a service I _only _offer to my children, of which you are one. And that's only because I just know you all are going to do the same for your father and me when we're old and can't remember where we put our teeth. It's a social contract we have."

Veronica felt warm inside despite the temperature of the room.

The door handle jiggled and Veronica stomach lurched in anticipation.

"I'm sure he'll get here soon, honey. The doctor takes a while to talk to you before they do the scan anyway, so it'll buy us some time." Alicia followed her pep talk with an encouraging smile.

The door swung open, but instead of the doctor, Logan walked into the room.

Veronica's eyes connected with his and everything else fell away.

_Thank God he's not at the bottom of a ravine or washed-up dead on the shore of some cove._

In her peripheral vision, she noticed Alicia grab Lilly's hand and pull her from the chair. "We'll meet you kids in the waiting room. Good luck."

"We can't stay?" Lilly frowned, dragging her feet the whole way to the door. "I thought we were going to see the baby."

"Next time. They're going to take lots of pictures anyway, so you won't miss a thing." Alicia guided Lilly through the doorway and shut the door behind her.

Logan remained standing in the same spot, and Veronica wondered what it would take to get him to emerge from his stupor.

Veronica cleared the tension from her throat. "Hey."

"Hey." His face was placid, no hint of the turmoil festering beneath the surface.

They stared at each other in silence, neither knowing where to start, until Logan finally broke off with an exhausted whimper.

"You knew, didn't you?"

Before she could answer, Logan cut her off. "What am I saying? Of course you knew. You always do." He ran both hands through his hair twice and absently turned in place as he surveyed the room.

"I knew about the letters and the roses last night," Veronica said, cautiously, "but didn't get back the fingerprint results until this afternoon."

His eyebrows rose sharply, and his voice took on an acrid edge. "You didn't think to call me?"

She had. Of course she had. But what would she have said?

_How the hell was I supposed to rip open his greatest wound when I wouldn't even be there to bandage him up again?_

"It's not exactly the kind of news you break to somebody over the phone."

Logan opened his mouth to speak, but she raised her hand to stop him.

"Particularly somebody who has been withholding the issue from you to begin with." Veronica took a breath and tried to remain calm. One of them had to remain calm for his sake. "What was I supposed to lead in with? 'Remember that secret stalker situation you've been keeping from me? Well, about that...'"

Logan visibly deflated. "Keeping secrets. Yeah, that happened."

"Yeah, it did," she whispered to herself.

Veronica wanted to touch him, wanted desperately to feel the weight of him in her arms, but wasn't sure if he wanted somebody to comfort him or somebody to blame. She was willing to be either of those things for him now, or whatever else he needed her to be.

Logan face collapsed for a beat, as he struggled valiantly against the rising tide of his emotions and regained control. "Are you mad at me?"

His voice broke on the final word and she could feel her heart break right along with it.

_He needs something he can rely on. He needs you to be normal._

A puff of exasperated laughter left Veronica's lips. "Of course I'm mad at you, dummy. What do you think?"

Logan took a tentative step in her direction. "But...you're not – you still-"

"I'm not answering that Logan." A darkness crossed her features and her mouth tightened into a firm line. She knew he needed reassurance, but she wasn't going to indulge him in the same conversation for the rest of her life. At some point, he's just have to accept that she loved him unconditionally. "Assume it's a given from now on."

Logan sighed and boyishly kicked his feet against the linoleum floor. "You would've dumped me for something like that, back in the day." He dipped down slightly as he inched himself closer to her. "Given me the ol one finger salute."

"Probably" she nodded quickly, "but I don't want perfection anymore, Logan. I just want you."

He let a steady stream of air escape through his fragile smile and examined his feet. "There's probably a compliment hidden in there somewhere." He took another step closer. "I feel like there's usually way more yelling involved when you get pissed at me."

Veronica's smile echoed his and she extended her legs, dangling them off of the edge of the table. "There will be. I'm biding my time. Milking the whole experience for what it's worth."

Logan lifted his chin to look at her. "You want me to do the dishes."

"Obviously." She shrugged. "And the laundry, too."

"I can do that...or at least pay somebody to." He walked into the empty space between her legs and toyed with the fabric at the hem of her robe. "Maybe, Weevil-?"

"Stop." Veronica pressed his lips shut with her fingertips and suppressed a grin. "You're a terrible human. You know that, right?"

"Yes. I know," Logan mumbled, and pried her fingers away from his mouth. He lightly kissed her palm, then let her hand slip through his weakened grip and looked away. "I know."

"Hey." Veronica's brow furrowed with concern. She grabbed his face to turn it back to her, and was confronted with the most soul-destroying, puppy dog look she'd ever seen.

His eyes shut tightly before his forehead fell forward onto hers. "Why didn't she love me, Veronica?"

_That's it. I hate her._

Her chest tightened painfully at his suffering. And hers. When the lights were out and she was all alone, she'd had the exact same thoughts about her own mom. Every kid who'd ever been abandoned did.

Veronica's fingers dug into the back of his hair and scratched gently. "She did. In her own way, your mother loved you. I know she did."

She truly believed her words. Lynn was a troubled woman, but she did love Logan. She'd seen it first-hand.

There were many times, when Logan and Duncan were busy goofing off or he'd said something particularly witty, that Lynn's face would just light up like a Christmas tree - the way only a proud mother's could. She loved her son fully, just not very well.

_I can do both._

"You are amazing." Veronica brought her hands to either side of his face and let her lips brush the bridge of his nose. "Some people are just limited in what they can give you, but for what she was capable of, she loved you."

"What about you?" His timbre was rough, but hopeful, though his eyes remained shut as if bracing for the next blow.

_How does he do that? I'd be crying in the shower by now, cursing the world, and he's looking for something to believe in._

"Me?" Veronica had to laugh at the question, until she realized what he was really asking her.

"Yeah."

"I'm limited too." The words filled her mouth like molasses, and she struggled to push them to the surface. "...and there are going to be times when I feel like running, but I know deep down that I won't. I couldn't." She shook the thought from her head.

Logan cradled her face in his hands, and she blushed under the heat of his intense gaze. He swept both thumbs lightly across her cheekbones and smiled wistfully. "I know that."

Veronica breath caught in her chest. "You do?"

_Holy shit. He finally believes me?_

He nodded against her face. "You're terrible in all the ways I'm not, and vice versa. You have to stay, or the universe will be hopelessly out of balance. You'll attract all sorts of bad juju to the area."

"We wouldn't want that." She wrapped her legs around his back and jerked him tightly against her core, then pulled him into a bracing kiss.

Logan's fingers caressed the lines of her collar bones, drifted to her shoulders then slid back up into her messy nest of waves, where they gripped so tightly she gasped into his mouth.

"Logan..."

"Love you," he murmured, in-between kisses, as he mouthed his way down the column of her neck. "Love you so much...just you."

Veronica leaned into the embrace and her breath quickened. "I love you too, Logan. Always." She clasped her hands around the back of his head and brought him back up for a kiss.

Logan's hands slipped under her robe and palmed the swell of her bare ass, spurring a throbbing ache between her thighs.

_We're supposed to be looking at our baby for the first time and I'm jumping him while sitting on the exam table and wearing a paper robe? Do I have no shame?_

"Fuck! These pregnancy hormones are not playin' around." Veronica moaned against his lips and arched her back to give him greater access to her neck. "This is super inappropriate."

"You mean 'super hot'." He chuckled into the hollow of her throat.

"That too."

It wasn't until the third time the doctor cleared her throat that Veronica noticed her standing there, an embarrassed grimace forming on her lips.

"Well, I think we can safely say this baby was made with love." The doctor held Veronica's chart to her chest and then crossed her arms over it.

_This is not embarrassing. Nope. Not at all. _

"Sorry." Logan reluctantly released Veronica's hair, and shifted his angle to hide his erection.

Veronica rolled her eyes and pushed him to the other side of the exam table for cover, then wiped the excess saliva from her chin with the ridge of her index finger.

"I'm going to go out on a limb and assume this is the daddy?" the doctor asked, still clearly enjoying their discomfort.

"Who? This guy?" Veronica hooked her thumb in Logan's direction. "Not really sure what gave you that impression. This is just the hot piece I'm doing on the side."

"Well. One of your men has great taste in jewelry." She gestured to Veronica's engagement ring.

"Yes." Veronica smiled and reached out to grab Logan's hand. "Yes, he does."

"So." The doctor pulled the black-rimmed glasses from her shirt collar and put them on. "Are you ready to meet your baby?"

They looked at each other with a mixture of unadulterated fear and euphoria.

"That's why we're here." Logan kissed the top of Veronica's head and tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"If you'll just give me a minute to set up?" The doctor crossed the room the unpack the sonogram machine.

Veronica's heart beat so loudly within her ribcage, she was sure the doctor would be able to hear it without a stethoscope. She inhaled deeply in and held it in her lungs for a moment, before exhaling a shaky breath.

"You're not dying on me, are you?" Logan whispered into her hair. "I mean, if you are...I guess this is probably the best place to do it."

"Not dying." She was only halfway sure that wasn't a lie. "It's just...shit is getting real."

Logan exploded with laughter and kissed the side of her head. "Thank you."

Veronica side-eyed him, but couldn't manage to keep a straight face. "For amusing you by suffering a panic attack at the worst possible moment?"

"No." He lifted her left hand and played with the ring on her finger. "For giving me a real family."

* * *

"You have ten minutes. I'm serious, people. Don't make me have to shut off the water again!" Johnson shouted above the throng of orange jump-suited men carrying state-issued towels in their hands.

It was shower time, Duncan's least-favorite ten minute stretch of the day.

"Hey gorgeous." A giant skinhead, the size and shape of a small bison, blew Duncan a kiss from his place on a parallel line. "We've got just enough time in there for me make it worth your while."

He winked, and something low in Duncan's stomach started to roll.

_Lilly...Lilly...Lilly..._

Duncan thought of his daughter and took a deep breath. "If it only takes you ten minutes, you can be sure as hell I'll be keeping a tight grip on the soap. I'm not looking for a minute man."

_Where the fuck did that come from?_

The bison's two smaller friends laughed hysterically at the slam, razzing him hard.

Duncan thought he recognized the hissing laughter coming from one of the men, and a stolen glimpse at him, confirming his hunch: Danny Boyd.

"Rule #1: don't piss off guys who can kill you just by sitting on you," Hector whispered, leaning close enough for Duncan to feel the heat of his words on the back of his neck.

"Yeah? What was I supposed to do, instead? Bend over?" Duncan spoke out of the corner of his mouth.

"Those aren't your only two options, gringo." Hector stopped talking to exchange a head gesture with another member of his gang. "You could just let your boys take care of it for you. Never single yourself out if you can help it, homes. It's better that he's just pissed at the gang, because they're not gonna take all of us on over that shit. Plus, the skinheads already hate us, so that ain't news."

_Am I in a Latin prison gang now?_

"My boys, huh?" A swell of relief bloomed within Duncan's chest. Yeah, he was in prison, and these weren't the kind of guys he would have sought out, but it had been seven years since he'd had anything close to resembling a group of friends. The concept didn't completely suck.

"It's been a while."

"We got your back, son."

Hector gripped the back of Duncan's right shoulder a little too hard, but Duncan found the weight of the man's hand oddly comforting. He was starting to relax. Prison was scary, but with a gang to back him up, it was significantly less so. Or so he thought.

"You gonna let that pretty boy speak to you like that?" Danny taunted the bison over the din of the crowd.

His eyes locked onto Duncan's face like a homing beacon, and he smiled. He fucking smiled. He was getting off on starting shit. Every cell in Duncan's body vibrated with anger and frustration.

_Leave to that asshole to resurrect an argument from the dead just for entertainment purposes._

"He's got quite a mouth on him, doesn't he?" a low voice drawled from a few feet behind the bison on line. Duncan's heart began to race.

The air crackled with tension, and several of the inmates backed away from the scene, not wanting to get caught in the crossfire.

Danny's high-pitched laughter broke through the inmates' stunned silence.

The sea of orange parted as Liam Fitzpatrick came into view. "Quite. A. Mouth."

_Shit!_

Liam leered with intent in Duncan's direction, then licked his lips like a Roman emperor at the Colosseum, about to release the lions. "Don't go givin' me ideas now, Kane."

Hector pushed Duncan behind him and puffed out his chest. "He's not on the menu, puta."

"Aww..." Liam ran a hand under his red rimmed nose and sniffed loudly. "Everything's on the menu. Just depends on how desperate a person gets." A sly grin took over his face as he tilted his head toward Duncan. "You feeling desperate yet, boy?"

_Is that a proposition or a threat? I can never tell with him!_

_What the hell would Logan do? Should I knock him out? No. Bad idea. He'll kill me for sure. _

_What does Logan do when a crazy girl hits on him and he's not interested? He always said the best way to get rid of an alpha mean girl is to pretend you really like her. Then, you're not a challenge. They move on._

_Or, that could make Liam think that I'm actually interested in him and make him more aggressive?_

Either way, Duncan was certain he was fucked in every sense.

"You must not think too highly of yourself if you think I'd have to be desperate." Duncan lowered his chin and looked up at Liam through half-lidded eyes.

Liam cocked an eyebrow and smacked his lips with approval. "Well...you're just full of surprises Kane, aren't you?"

Duncan shrugged his shoulders enigmatically and turned away to look at something non-existent in the distance. "If I told you, then it wouldn't be a surprise, would it?"

Throaty laughter tumbled out of Liam like a bag of gravel onto a concrete road. "I like spunk."

Duncan wasn't sure which iteration of the word he meant, but suspected it was probably both.

Liam's eyes raked over Duncan's wide chest, all the way down to his crotch. "This one's mine, boys. Hands off." He pointed at the bison. "You too, fatty."

After throwing his towel over his shoulder, Liam walked to the head of the line and then stopped short. He turned to Duncan and winked. "I'll be seeing you."

That was the last thing Duncan remembered.

* * *

"Get up!" Hector's voice cut through the thick din of bells echoing in Duncan's his head. "Get the fuck up, boss. Now!"

_Wha-?_

A swift kick to the ribs did nothing but elicit a groan. Duncan's limbs were as heavy as anvils. He could barely roll over, much less get up. Cold beads of water rained down onto his naked form, rousing him from the heavy fog that surrounded his brain.

His mind skipped like a stone over a pool of memories. If the water were warmer, Duncan would have assumed he was back on that island in Thailand that he and Lilly lived on for six months, just after they left town. He was so petrified of being caught those first few months, that he couldn't sleep.

He'd spent several nights lying face up on the soft expanse of powder just outside their beach-side bungalow, contemplating the stars under a light drizzle that drenched his newly-bronzed skin like a baptism. It was there that he'd finally come to accept his new 'normal'.

He was no longer Duncan Kane.

At first, he called himself John Smith, like the explorer. It seemed fitting, and just nondescript enough not to call attention to itself. Every six months he'd change it, always picking a name that had meaning to him so he could remember it. So he could remember himself.

He went by Richard 'Dick' Marrakesh on the island of Cibu in the Philippines, and Michael York (a reference to the film 'Logan's Run' that only he and one other guy would find funny) in Tasmania. When he arrived in Singapore, he'd already changed his name again to Vernon Pluto. By his count, he'd gone through 16 false identities since he'd fled Neptune with Lilly, with the threat of arrest following him like a restless ghost.

By the time he made his way back to Neptune, and he was finally allowed to be Duncan Kane again, he wasn't exactly sure who that was anymore. But less than a month later, it wouldn't matter, because he'd be forced to change it again.

"Inmate GF1880 is down, requesting back-up," a voice barked from directly above him. "GF1880 is down, but still armed."

_Armed?_

Duncan tried to lift his head, but a searing pain shot through the back of his skull and he aborted his efforts.

_Fuck! What the hell happened to me? Is this a nightmare?_

"Stay down!" the guard ordered sharply.

The cock of a gun hammer was the noise that ultimately drew Duncan out of his haze.

One eye opened and was met with the barrel of a revolver pointing directly at him.

"Remain on the ground with your hands over your head."

Fear coursed through Duncan like a shock from a taser. "Where am I?"

_You're in prison, idiot. How could you forget?_

"I repeat, drop your weapon!"

Duncan wrenched his other eye open, and immediately wished he hadn't.

In his left hand, with his fingers curled possessively around its handle, was the mystery shiv he'd found lying on his pillow the night before. The last time he'd seen it, it had a bow on it.

Now, it was covered in blood.

* * *

**A/N - That's right, readers who figured out my 'season 2 revisited' clue. Duncan has been framed for MURDER (sharp gasp!). But who did he kill? Who framed him and why? And will he become somebody's bitch in prison? Looks like Duncan's plan to channel Logan worked a little too well. Is Duncan interesting enough for you now?**

**I hope you MaDi lovers are satisfied - I know you've waited a long time. BAMF!Dick is the house now, so are we good?**

**Petrenko = Bond villain.**

**Wallace = best guy ever.**

**Sorry for no Weevil - he will be back in the next chapter for sure.**

**As for LoVe and the Lynn reveal - a lack of a dead body to me is like Chekov's Gun - why bring it up unless you plan to use it later? There was no point in _not _having a body, unless Rob Thomas wanted the option of bringing Lynn back at some point in the future. Things were left vague for a reason, IMO. He may say NOW that Lynn is dead, but who knows what he had in mind at the time of the show. At this point, he wants to reboot the series, so it makes sense not to bring baggage back from before.**

**Special thanks to my darling beta, silverlining2k6.**

**If you have the time and the desire, I would love to hear what you thought of this chapter in a review :)**


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